


Fade Away

by FineSpecimanRetrieved



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Agender Chara, Agender Frisk, And Ideation, Background Relationships, Child Abuse, Child Neglect, Constant Resets, Depression, Execution, F/F, Frisk Wants to Die, Frisk isn't causing them, Frisk really needs help, Gen, Gore, Graphic Depictions of Body Decay, Grief, Momdyne, Murder, Self-Harm, Self-Hatred, Self-Sacrifice, So does Chara, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide, Trauma, good!chara, unhealthy codependency
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-14
Updated: 2018-07-20
Packaged: 2018-07-23 23:54:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 23
Words: 43,964
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7484883
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FineSpecimanRetrieved/pseuds/FineSpecimanRetrieved
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It never ends. The same story over and over again. It wears you down, grinds your will to continue into dust. But there’s no stop to it. </p>
<p>Trapped in never ending resets, unhealthy co-dependency and the knowledge that the only guy who knows about it all hates them, Frisk and Chara are out of options. They’ve tried everything, from kindness and freedom to murder and genocide. Nothing works. It just repeats everything all over again. So in the minds of traumatised and depressed kids, suicide seems to be their best and only option. Best case scenario, they die and never have to deal with this ever again. </p>
<p>Too bad it doesn’t work.</p>
<p>Except suicide is a pretty memorable thing, and emotions might just be a little bit stronger than memories. </p>
<p>Especially to the person who finds their dead body. </p>
<p>(This summary makes the story sound lighter than it actually is. It’s not. I wrote this while I was depressed and it shows.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Overdose

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 20/05/18 EDIT: Fixed some mistakes, took away some things that didn't make sense and replaced it with some other stuff. I feel like I should mention that pairings are Gen, as well as the fact that I am no medical expert and do not know completely what the effects of committing suicide through sleeping pills is. So if there are any inaccuracies, please excuse me for them!  
> Also! This now has a discord channel on a server with other stories, so if you want to go discuss this with me, check out this link: <https://discord.gg/jBB4FaT>
> 
> TW: Suicide, suicidal thoughts

You had done it. You freed the monsters.

 _(Again,)_ Chara whispered waspishly inside your head. 

But it would be the last time. There would be no more resets. No more pacifist runs. No more genocide runs. You had a plan to stop it. You would make sure that the monsters would have their happy ending.

_(Even at the price of your life?)_

Especially at the price of your life. You were tired. Chara was tired. You just couldn’t do it anymore. The monsters you had freed weren’t your monsters. Not anymore. It was hard to love someone you had seen killed over and over again. It was hard to love someone who would forget about you. Eventually you learned not to love at all. You went through the Underground with apathy, whether pacifist or genocide route. Sure, you... sort of cared for them. In a distant way. But it was more the remnants of a bond that had long since soured.

 _(If that's what you want to call it. I won't mention any names, but one in particular is pretty crushed to the_ bones _.)_ You grimaced. That... wasn't something you wanted to think about right now. You had long ago accepted that your relationship with Sans would never recover, even if you found a way to fix the resets. There was too much... bad blood (dust?) between you.

Blood and dust that Chara had spilt. 

(but that wasn't true, you were lying, lying, too guilty, too ashamed-)

You had hated them in the beginning, for everything that they had destroyed, for the horrific things they had made you _do_. (you let them, you accepted it, _you followed them-!_ ) But now you felt kinship. What you felt, they eventually felt. You two had been through so much together. It was hard not to bond with someone who had been with you for a long long time. Time that passed so differently with the resets. You still looked like a child, even after what felt like years, but you had changed inside.

After everything, it's no longer you.

But soon 'you' wouldn't even exist. Everything would stop and the monsters would finally get their happy ending.

_(Are you sure Frisk? We could always do this a different way.)_

And even though they said that, you could hear the tiredness in their voice. They wanted to die as much as you did. You wondered if your apathy and depression had eventually bled into them, had caused them to deteriorate alongside you, but they always tried to assure you that this wasn't your fault. It was the resets, the monsters, their _own_ fault.

"It’s okay. It’s okay Chara. We’ll do this together," you whispered, determined to see this through.

_(Okay.)_

And if you heard them whisper a thank you, well, you weren’t going to say anything.

You had just told Toriel that you had places to go. In the beginning, when you were trying to find out if not going with her would change anything, you had felt angry at how easily she left you. How she never asked why. How, when you tried it again to see if she would say something different, she never tried to stop you. But eventually you accepted it. She would never react differently. She would never say anything else. You watched as she descended the mountain, never looking back. Soon, you were alone.

_(How do you want to do it?)_

Well, almost.

"I don’t want to throw myself off the cliff if that’s what you’re asking." (not yet, only if this didn't work, if you had to try again)

You peered down the edge. It was dizzying.

_(Alphys has pills. Undyne has bleach. Papyrus has rope. There’s a knife somewhere near Asgore’s place. And Toriel has the flowers. Take your pick.)_

"…Which do you think would be best?"

_(…It depends. None of them are gonna be pretty or particularly quick. They're... all gonna hurt Frisk.)_

"I think I'm used to a little pain by now."

(blood and guts and snow and bones and gore and dust and pain pain pain)

 _(Yeah I... suppose so. If... you're really sure Frisk. Rope and pills are the quickest if you do it right. If you want to really suffer then use the bleach or the knife. Of if you want to be poetic, use the flowers.)_ You felt a touch of cold amusement from Chara and gave them a humourless smile in return.

"How do you think they would react if they realized I died the same way at the first fallen human?" A small, nasty part of you wanted to do it that way, wanted to make Toriel and Asgore know that they failed their child again, that they lost them the same way they lost their precious _Chara_.

 _(I don't know. Badly? Wonder if it'd drag up some deja vu._ )

You were tired of being someone else's ghost.

"...I think I’ll use the pills," you said after a while. Better to let dead dogs lie. 

 

_(Okay.)_

Chara's callous treatment of the monsters had never quite sat right with you, even after you stopped bothering to care too much about them. There was hatred there that you never quite understood, and probably never would. They didn't want to tell you what their reasons were, and you weren't going to press.

 

"…Should I write a note?"

_(…Yeah. Just… A short one.)_

"Asgore has that diary we could use. And Alphys is sure to have a pen."

_(Let’s do that then.)_

Taking one last look at the fading sunset, you turned around and headed back to the opening of the Underground, carefully making your way inside. You knew that you had to be careful in order to dodge any monsters leaving the Underground. Thankfully most were attempting to pack up all of their stuff before they left. You managed to quickly rip out a blank page from Asgore’s diary, before hurrying on to Hotland. Though there were some problems with you getting through the Core and Resort, you eventually managed to get to the lab. The emptiness was unusual to the bustle outside, and you resolved yourself to be in and out as quickly as possible.

"Do you have any idea where she might keep the pills?" You asked, shoving open a drawer. 

_(Try her bedside table. Or her desk.)_

You stepped onto the escalator and headed up to Alphys’ room. You grabbed a pen from her work table, trying to avoid moving the blueprints sitting there. You hurried along and quickly searched her bedside table. Grasping onto a bottle shaped form, you tugged it out and read the label.

'Only take 1 pill every 8 hours. Any more can lead to disorientation, vomiting, nausea, headaches and/or falling down.'

_(…You wanna take them here?)_

No, you knew Alphys would be back to get her stuff from the lab and you... didn't want her to find you like that. She had gone through enough with the True Lab without adding your decaying body on top of it.

Let her suffer, something in you whispered, let her see you lying there bloated, make her pay for everything she's done.

You bit your lip.

"…No. Let’s… Let’s go to Waterfall. I think I’d like to… take them there."

It was peaceful, quiet and beautiful in a haunting way. Plus you had made... some good memories there with Undyne.

('C'mon punk! I got a pot of spaghetti with our names on it, and we ain't gonna let it go to waste are we!' She tossed you in the air before catching you and placing you with a strange gentleness onto her back. 'Walking's for losers! And you may be a punk, but you're not a loser kiddo!')

You wondered what she would think if she knew what you were going to do.

You didn't want to know.

Pocketing the pill bottle and pen, you took the escalator down to the exit and headed to the beginning of Hotland.

_(You know you could have just taken the boat, right?)_

"I want to get a glass of water. I don't really fancy drinking river water, do you?" It was almost easy to pretend to be nonchalant, as though they weren't so unhappy with their life that they were going to take themself out of it. _  
_

_(Oh.)_

Unfortunately, several monsters were crowding around the water cooler, most of them carrying bags and other possessions. You guessed that these monsters were from Waterfall or Snowdin and had desperately needed to take a break. Surprisingly however, Monster Kid was there; eagerly talking to a couple you guessed were their parents. And it appeared they had just noticed you.

“Hey Frisk! What are you doing here?” They asked enthusiastically, garnering the attention of the monsters around you. They began to thank you, hug you and chatter happily to you, while you tried to edge closer to the water cooler.

“Oh! Did you need a drink? Here!” Monster Kid scampered up to the water cooler and tried to grab a cup, despite their own lack of arms.

“Um… A little help?” They asked and you gave a soft smile. You walked up to it, grabbed the glass and quickly poured yourself some water.

“So… What _are_ you doing here? I would have thought you would be up there!”

You explained that you wanted to visit the different places in the Underground one last time.

“Oh! That makes sense I guess! Well, I don’t want to hold you up any longer! See ya up there!”  Your smile turned sad, but you nodded anyway.

Unlike you, they were still a kid. It was... nice to see them one last time.

You said your goodbyes and headed towards the River Person, who like always seemed to know exactly when you needed them.

“Care for a ride?” You nodded, and they moved forward to make some room. “Where will we go today?”

You noticed how they didn't hum their usual tune, but shook it off. They were probably preoccupied with something else, or maybe just not in the mood to sing today. You told them that you would like to go to Snowdin. They nodded and you clambered into the boat, careful not to drop your cup of water. The River Person began to row, and the boat was quickly speeding through the tunnels in the direction of Waterfall. Soon, they began speak, carefully, gently.

“I wonder if this is your end, little human. I'm afraid don’t quite know.” You froze, but River Person didn’t elaborate. They just continued to steer through the water. They didn't speak another work for the rest of the trip, leaving you to wonder what they had meant, if they knew anything about what you planned.

Soon enough you both arrived at the Snowdin docking station.

“Come again soon. Or maybe not, depending on how things turn out.” You quickly turned away and swallowed. You could feel their eyes on you as you began to leave the area.

_(Just ignore them. They’re always saying cryptic things.)_

"...Okay."

You hurried along through the Snowdin Town, ducking away and hiding from the bustling monsters packing up their things. It wouldn't be good if one of them saw you and reported it back to the others later. The less people who saw you, the better.

 _(Why did you go to Snowdin?)_ Chara piped up suddenly, and you shrugged.

"It’s easier to walk to the place where… where I’ll take the pills," you explained hesitantly. 

_(…Where’s that?)_

"The bench. Where the abandoned quiche was. It's... private and out of the way. Plus there are no... cameras."

_(Oh.)_

The entrance to Waterfall was empty, most of the monsters having either gone back to their homes in Snowdin or Waterfall. Sans’ sentry station was abandoned. You passed it without a glance. You trudged through the cold water, grasping at your jumper to keep you warm. Once you finally got to the other side, you continued onward to the room where the Bridge Seeds were stored.

The bridge was easily created, with each Bridge Seed carefully put into place. You watched apathetically as they sprouted, and gave you a way to the room where the quiche had been. You swallowed heavily when you saw the bench and padded over towards it. With a trembling hand, you touched the cold wood softly. Sitting yourself down next to the echo flower, you placed your cup of water on the ground and pulled out the paper and pen.

_(You could just talk to the echo flower.)_

"I don’t… I’m not sure how long the message would last. That and everything wouldn’t fit."

Chara didn't respond.

Your hands were shaking as you smoothed the paper, and uncapped the pen.

‘Dear all, I’m sorry it has to be this way-‘

No. No that won’t work. You carefully scribbled it out.

‘To everyone; by the time you read this, I probably won’t be here anymore-‘

You felt something cold run down your cheeks. You lifted your hands to our face and gently rubbed your eyes.

"...What...? Why am I... crying?" You whispered quietly, trying not to activate the echo flowers. You didn't want whoever found you to hear this. 

_(…I cried too when I did it. It’s… It’s a hard process. It isn’t easy to take your own life.)_

"B-But why…?"

 _(You’re saying goodbye. You're about to_ die _. That’s why. I think you can afford some tears.)_

"But I should be happy! I-I should be overjoyed that I- we are going to die! Permanently!" You argued back, confused and upset at your own sadness.

You could almost see Chara smile sadly at you.

_(It doesn’t change the fact that it’s going to be over.)_

You dropped the pen and brought your hands to your face.

"I want this though! I-I want to die!"

_(It’s okay to be afraid Frisk. I was.)_

A sob built up in your chest, and you hunched your back.

"But that was different! I’m not allowed to be afraid! I _deserve_ to die!" You choked out, desperate to stop the heaving cries that were trying to escape your throat.

_(No-one deserves to die Frisk. Least of all you. Now let it out. You'll feel better.)_

You let out a keen wail, dug your fingernails into your skin and curled into a ball. Your sobs grew louder as they echoed against the glimmering walls around you. Your chest heaved and grew tight, and you vaguely noticed that you knocked your glass of water over. Your crying grew hysteric while you hugged yourself tighter.

_(It’s okay Frisk. It’s okay. I’m here. I'll always be here. No matter what. The others might leave you, might forget you, but I won't. Ever.)_

Your sobs became slower, and soon you were no longer making as much noise. You were still weeping, but it had grown quieter. Subdued.

Resigned.

Soon the tears stopped flowing, and you wiped your eyes and stood up from where you had sat down.

You picked up the pen and finished your note. It was shorter than you had imagined, with barely any explanation other than there was nothing for you left here, you had done your job and now you were going to do what you had originally tried to do before you entered the Underground.

Grabbing the fallen cup, you walked up to the water and refilled it.

Guess you would be drinking that river water after all.

You turned back around and sitting robotically on the bench. You brought out the pill bottle, set your cup down and shook out a handful of the small round pills. Shoving them in your mouth, you grabbed the water and took a swig. You harshly swallowed, trying to ignore the burning pain in your throat from swallowing too much at once. You repeated the process until the bottle was almost empty. Your stomach churned.

You felt sick and sleepy at the same time. The bottle rolled out of your hand, while the cup fell to the floor, as you leaned back against the backrest. With lazy eyes, you watched the water flow softly, your breathing slowly getting heavier.

“Goodnight… I’m sorry…” You whispered quietly, your eyes fluttering shut.

_(Frisk-)_

You didn’t hear Chara’s last words to you. You were drifting off, the clenching pain in your stomach slowly numbing.


	2. Decay

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 20/05/18 EDIT: Fixed some mistakes and added some new stuff. Nothing vastly different, just making sentences clearer. Once again, not a medical expert, so I'm not quite sure how quickly a human body would decay after a few weeks.  
> Discord link: <https://discord.gg/jBB4FaT>
> 
> TW: Graphic description of body decay, suicide, the aftermath of suicide.

It was Undyne who found the body.

It had been three weeks since Frisk’s sudden and unexplained departure from the monsters. After the group had gone back up the mountain after exploring the surrounding area, they had been surprised to find a closed-off Toriel and a missing human child. Any answers attempted to be extracted from the former queen were clipped and cold.

“They went back to their real family,” was all that she had to say on the matter, before closing off completely and refusing to speak any further on the subject.

Papyrus and Alphys had been confused and slightly heartbroken by their disappearance, while Undyne angrily tried to receive more information from Toriel. Asgore had been slightly disappointed and worried, but didn’t think too much on the matter. Even though the child had saved his people, he had barely known them. While he was grateful for the monsters’ freedom, he had not been as attached as the others. For him, life went on. Sans… Sans was indifferent. Well, apathetic would be better to describe his thoughts on the matter. He was just waiting for the next reset to occur and had barely blinked when Frisk’s departure reached him. Everyone would see the kid soon anyway, even if they didn’t remember them. To be honest, the only feelings he had on the matter were complete apathy and a furious anger that simmered deep within his rib cage. He was really getting tired of the kid’s constant reset bullshit.

The group had asked around and looked in the human towns for a week, before getting pulled into their duties and the surface. They didn’t quite forget about Frisk per se, but rather got completely wrapped up with organization, meetings and talks with humans that it had simply slipped their minds.

Finding out where they'd gone had been a complete coincidence.

Alphys had only found Frisk due to going over her surveillance cameras and the recordings of the past weeks while everyone had been busy. Asgore had wanted her to watch them and look out for any monsters that might have been left behind.

She had been watching the last few tapes, having gone over them from newest to oldest, when she found herself viewing the videotape that had been taken on the day of their departure. Nothing had happened the past few tapes and Alphys had found herself being incredibly bored when she _saw_ Frisk. Startled at the sudden sight of them, her eyes flickered to the time of the recording. Her brow furrowed in confusion. Wasn’t that the time when they had come back up the mountain? So it must have been taken shortly after Frisk had told Toriel they were leaving… Alphys went rigid all of a sudden. She had been watching the tapes from newest to oldest, and yet… yet she had never seen Frisk… come out of the Underground.

Alphys watched the video with slight fascination and confusion, as they wandered down to Hotland and into… her lab? She was completely baffled by Frisk’s behaviour. Why were they grabbing her sleeping pills? She had completely forgotten about the pills, and she had hardly needed them lately due to how busy and exhausted she had been. She continued to watch, disturbed by Frisk’s lethargic movements and… apathetic face?

Oh.

Oh no.

Alphys had been depressed before, still was though it was slowly getting better through medicine and the therapy Asgore had forced her to go to, but she hadn't thought...

No, she must be mistaken. She kept her eyes glued to the screen, hoping for something, anything that would rule out what she was thinking.

And then Frisk went into that hidden room in Waterfall. She had never gotten around to installing cameras there, so she had no idea what had happened there. She viewed the tape patiently, until the tape finished. Her heart sank.

She put on the tape that came out after that one, despite having reviewed it already. She must have missed something. Had to have missed something.

But no Frisk came out.

Icy cold dread washed over her. Frisk had never come out of that room. She dropped the pen she had been holding to take notes on, ignoring the clatter it made when it fell to the floor. She grabbed her previous notes and skimmed through them in desperation. Nothing. She had made no note on seeing Frisk in the future tapes. When she reached the end of her notes, she immediately went over them again. Maybe she had missed something? Maybe they had walked out without being caught on tape?

Nothing.

Nothing.

Nothing.

She found absolutely nothing in her notes and the previous videos. Panic began to seize her, and she tried to justify why they hadn't come out.

Why hadn’t Frisk come out? They must have gone out for food or water, they had no food, one cup of water couldn’t have been enough, why the hell did they only have one cup and-

The pills.

Alphys’ heart stopped.

The sleeping pills. The pills that were so powerful that too many would definitely make you fall asleep and never wake up. The pills that she had contemplated using when-

No. No. No, no, no, no, no, Frisk wouldn’t do that. They would never do that.

And yet it made sense. The lethargic movements. The blank face. The emotionless behaviour.

Ice gripped her heart and she stood up, all of her notes flying off the desk and her lap. Alphys ignored the paper and rushed out of the tent she had been working in. She ignored Undyne’s worried calls, Papyrus’s cheerful greetings, Sans’ wave. She forced her small body up the mountain, not hearing Undyne’s thudding footsteps behind her.

“Alphys! Alphys! ALPHYS!” Undyne grabbed her from behind and turned her to look at her. “Hey! Is everything okay?!”

Alphys said nothing, her body trembling, her face ashen, while frantic gasps were released from her lungs. “Alphys…? Oh shit is this one of those panic attacks you told me about? Okay, okay, what can I do-?”

“Frisk-!” She wheezed out, desperation coating her voice.

“Frisk?! What about Frisk?”

“Oh god, no, no, no, no, I have to go, we have to go Undyne, we have to, we have to go, we have to, we have to we have-!” Undyne felt chills go down her spine at her girlfriend’s frightened and horrified tone. Feeling her Captain side kick in, she crouched down and looked Alphys in the eyes. She forced herself to be as calm as possible.

“Where do we have to go Alphys?”

A harsh sob wracked the small scientist’s body.

“Underground, we have to go Underground, oh god, they’re there, they’re there…”

“Why Alphys? Who's there?" Undyne asked again, trying to ignore the feeling of dread and horror lurking in her stomach. She couldn't focus on her own emotions right now, her girlfriend needed stability, comfort-

“They’re there, they’re there, they’re there-!”

“Frisk? Is Frisk there?” By now, Papyrus, Asgore and surprisingly Toriel had reached them. They all froze at Undyne’s words. Papyrus was about to say something, but stopped when the king put a hand on his shoulder and shook his head. Not yet, he seemed to say. Toriel looked on blankly, her body becoming tense.

“Yes, oh god, yes they’re there but no, they’re not, oh god, oh god, oh god, they took it, I think they took it, oh my god-!”

“Breathe Alphys, okay babe? Alright, I need you to tell me what you mean-”

“I think they’re _dead, oh God they're dead, they’rede **adthey'redeadthey'redeadthey'redead-!**_ ”

Her small claws clenched up into fists, and she curled into a ball. Gasps and sobs tore through her, while Undyne held onto her girlfriend, completely frozen. Asgore and Papyrus’s eyes were wide open, shocked at the scientist’s words. Toriel had collapsed to the floor.

Robotically, Undyne let go and stood up. She had to... she had to find them. Alphys had the others to comfort her and she knew that she should stay, should look after her girlfriend but Frisk...

“Where?” She asked, her face terrifyingly blank and voice low.

“The secret room… in Waterfall-!” Alphys hiccupped.

Undyne took off in a sprint without another word. Asgore had broken out of his trance, and asked the broken women hoarsely: “How?”

Alphys wept out her response.

Toriel’s scream of anguish would haunt the group throughout every timeline to come.

 

* * *

 

The first thing Undyne noticed about Waterfall was the smell. It was barely noticeable, but still there, hidden beneath the layers of water, rocks and fish. As she made her way through, it got stronger and stronger, until she had to stop and retch. She recognized the smell from a long time ago, when she had just started her position in the royal guard.

She had snuck into a side room in the castle, had been curious what it had been hiding, since Asgore didn't want her to go in there.

Sometimes she wished she had just listened to him.

She hadn't known humans would linger on after death, would slowly rot away like the human food that sometimes fell into the Underground.

Hadn't known it would smell so bad.

And now she was smelling it again, but it stronger, more pungent, and all she could do was beg that she was wrong, that she was just projecting. The stench stung her eyes and made her gag throughout her entire way, causing her to pause several times and dunk her head in the water in order to breathe in something fresher. It didn’t help.

The water tasted of blood.

She yanked her head out, gasped and coughed to rid her mouth from the smell and taste, but it lingered stubbornly. She vomited.

By the time she had gotten to the place where the hidden room was, well... hidden, Undyne had thrown up once more. She threw up again when she entered, even though the only thing that came out was bile. The scent of death hung around the room like a poisonous miasma. Someone had definitely died here. Someone human.

She wanted to scream.

The moment she had inhaled the scent of flesh, Undyne knew. She knew that Alphys had been right.

The faint hope that it might have been a different human who had wandered there and died shattered.

Frisk had died here.

She whimpered. But she had to see. If not for herself, then the others.

She trudged on through the room, stopping to gag once more when she reached the bridge flowers. They were slightly decayed. A soft buzzing reached her ears.

Oh god, she couldn’t do this. She couldn’t go into that room.

But she had to.

She had to for the others.

They deserved to know.

...She had to know.

Undyne continued onwards. She reached the wooden bridge.

And choked. The water was a brownish sludge and small swarms of flies zipped through the air. She wrenched her eyes shut. She couldn’t see this. She _couldn_ ’ _t_ see this.

Using the damp wall as a way to guide her, she nearly stumbled when she reached the edge. The smell of decay was unbearable. She threw up once more, the suddenness of it forcing her eyes open.

And by god she wished they hadn’t opened.

A clogged wail escaped her painted lips. The sight before her made her crumple in horror, anguish and grief. What might have once been a human child was a waxy and bloated figure deformed from flies, death and rot.

The stained sweater confirmed who it was.

She collapsed to the floor, accidentally nudging the splattered echo flower.

A child began to wail.

Undyne screamed in unison with Frisk’s sobbing.

 

* * *

 

 

Several hours later, Frisk opened their eyes.

The sickly scent of buttercups greeted them.

Their dismayed scream was only muffled by the flowers surrounding them.


	3. Interlude: Awake

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait. It's a bit of a shorter chapter as I wanted to show some perspectives on the reset.  
> Discord link: <https://discord.gg/jBB4FaT>
> 
> 20/05/18 EDIT: Fixed some mistakes, added a few things here and there.

Sans woke up. He woke up to a familiar ceiling. A familiar smell. A familiar yell. And the oh-so familiar chill that greeted him mockingly every reset. He knew by now that it shouldn’t have shocked him. It shouldn’t have made him jolt out of bed and run to the window, only to be greeted by the familiar sight of Snowdin. It shouldn’t have made him want to scream and cry and hate, hate, hate. But it did. And this time it was stronger. Maybe it was because the last ‘ending’ lasted the longest. A whole three weeks. It was usually only a day, two at best, before the next _bloody_ reset.

The brat was really torturing Sans this time, weren’t they. Three weeks… Three whole weeks of freedom. Gone. Frisk was really pushing it this time.

He could only remember the last ‘end’ slightly. The most vivid memory was of Alphys bolting out of her tent, while Papyrus, Undyne, Asgore and Toriel ran after her. Sans wasn’t quite sure what the fuss had been about, though he was pretty sure it had something to do with the little demon.

(A scream echoed throughout his skull-)

He pushed down the burning hatred that rose when he thought about… _them_. He was too tired to hate anymore. Too old. Even so, he was closely acquainted with it. He knew hatred very, very well.

The first of the resets were definitely… not his prouder moments.

(He ignored the flashes of blood stained snow, and the small broken body of a child being buried by the cold.)

He had just been so furious. Furious at his baby brother’s brutal slaughter. Furious for trusting, _loving_ , the brat before. And furious at how it never, never seemed to end. Sans would be the first to admit that his anger and hatred had taken over him those resets. It had gotten so bad, that eventually the kid either hid from him and ran, or-

Went on a rampage.

His train of thought was broken by the cheerful yelling of his brother (his sweet, baby brother, who he _would_ protect, no matter what), and the smell of burning pasta.

Oh well.

He would deal with it later.

 

* * *

 

Undyne woke up to the burning odour of rotting flesh, a child’s anguished screams ringing in her ears and the words of a blood stained note seared into her memory. Her eyes flew open and she vomited, not caring that the thick liquid would stain her sheets. Cold tears ran down her face, her lungs tightening and stomach violently rebelling. In her mind, behind the pictures of dead children and suicide notes, a name repeated over and over again, a desperate mantra of Frisk, Frisk, Frisk-

She threw up again, the mangled body of her kid, because they _were_ her kid as much as Toriel's, flashing in front of her eyes. Raw sobs and hopeless wailing pounded in her ears and never before had Undyne regretted listening to an echo flower as much as she had then. Choked gasps and hiccups escaped her lips, and she brought up her hands to try and wipe away the tears and snot and vomit. It did nothing, as she continued to weep, harsh cries shaking her body, causing her eyes to burn and nose to clog up, and she wheezed, because the stench was trapped inside of her and Frisk’s screams echoed over and over in her mind and-

Undyne vomited once more.

It took an hour for her to finally calm down and notice something amiss.

Two hours passed by, and she began to get confused. The name Frisk was suddenly a distant echo, hidden in the reaches of her mind. She was baffled by her crying fit, and desperately tried to think about what had caused her to break down and _why_. She decided to patrol Waterfall to clear her mind, and squashed the sense of wrongness appearing as she walked out.

By the time she returned to her house, she had forgotten.

All that remained was a… hollow sort of grief. The type of grief where you mourn for something you have never known and maybe never will.

But that was not the only reminder she left behind.

From that day forward, she felt a sudden gut-clenching sickness whenever she walked past the Hidden Room in Waterfall. Whenever she listened to the echo flowers, a child’s anguished screams would ring faintly in her ears.

It confused her; terrified her even, but she adapted.

For now, at least.

 

* * *

 

Alphys flinched away from the computer she was working on, as a sudden jolt of horror, fear and grief gripped her body. Her heart pounded at a ridiculous pace and her breathing became shallower, almost painful. Dread washed over her, while her legs became weak. She collapsed to the floor, wheezing sounds escaping her with each breath, while dizziness made her head spin. She could barely think, her mind pounding with a clawing type of grief to a name she couldn’t quite remember.

Confused and disturbed, she grabbed a corner of her desk with shaking fingers and slowly pulled herself up. She slowed her breathing down to a relatively normal pace, and sat on a nearby chair. Her body trembled violently.

Alphys buried her head in her hands and wept for an unknown loss.

 

* * *

 

Flowey had told them so many times. He had told them every genocide run. You couldn’t come back to life with no determination. If you weren’t determined to live then you wouldn’t go back.

Then why?

Why was it happening again?

Why were they back at the beginning once more?

**_Why couldn’t they just die?_ **

Chara was silent for a moment. Too wrapped up in anger and sorrow and questions to speak.

Frisk felt nothing.

And then Chara’s feelings exploded.

Frisk let them take control of their combined grief and anger, too hollow and numb to deal with it themself.

Chara screamed and wailed and thrashed in hatred and fury, as hysteria took over.

Frisk let them. They were too tired to do it.

Too empty.

Slowly the screams died down to betrayed whimpering and sobs, and a repeated question of “Why, why, why-?!”

Frisk didn’t reply. What could they have said anyway?

“What are we doing Frisk? What are we- we **_doing_ **?!” Chara cried hoarsely. They swallowed.

Their body was tired. They could barely move their arms. Everything was so heavy and crushing and Frisk just couldn’t think, couldn’t _feel_ anything.

The silence between them was thick, the only sound being Chara’s sobs and hiccups.

“I just want to die,” they whispered. “Why can’t we die?”

“What do we do Frisk?”

“I can’t take this Frisk!”

“Please, don’t save them, just try again, please-!”

Frisk couldn’t reply to their siblings’ agony.

They just couldn’t.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have also made a tumblr for this story and others that have been posted on ff.net.  
> tumblr: http://finespecimanretrieved.tumblr.com/
> 
> 20/05/18 EDIT: The discord link here again, if you want to discuss anything! (oh jeez do I sound needy? crap) https://discord.gg/jBB4FaT


	4. Fall

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This took me a while to write. I am not pleased at all with the first part of this chapter. Sorry it's so short and kinda rushed. I just couldn't come with any ideas. But at least it's done.
> 
> 20/05/18 EDIT: Fixed mistakes, added a few things, the usual.
> 
> Discord link: <https://discord.gg/jBB4FaT>
> 
> TW: Suicide.

Frisk went through this run differently. Instead of interacting with everyone and everything like the previous pacifist runs, they did the bare minimum. They avoided contact unless it was absolutely necessary for the ending. They didn’t force a smile or a laugh like they did in the previous runs; instead keeping their face blank and detached. They couldn’t bring up the fake emotions that they had forced themselves to feel before.

At least this time, none of them would be attached.

It would make it easier.

Frisk knew that Sans had noticed the difference. When they had come out of the ruins with their blank face, he had narrowed his eyes and scrutinized their clothes, searching for the dust that would declare the run a genocide run. Of course, he had found none. They had barely spoken to Toriel, instead trying to leave the ruins as soon as possible. But despite their distance, Toriel had still been able to feel her feelings about them from the last run, faint as they were. And while there had been tinge of fear due to the genocide routes, her fondness always seemed to overcome it.

A mother’s love is, after all, stronger than fear.

But she wasn't their mother. Hadn't been for a long time.

(A blinding grin, a warm body, being spun around and thrown in the air as laughter rang through the air-)

The rules of the resets were confusing. While some monsters kept their emotions from previous runs, most of them simply… forgot. As if the memories and emotions they had felt before were just deleted. Gone. Curiously enough, Flowey and Asriel were among the ones who forgot. Though Flowey seemed to become more... lucid lately. 

Only Sans seemed to be the exception to the rule, though Frisk had noticed that his memories were usually blurry and contained gaps, sometimes jumbling together and making him unable to know which run had been the last one.

It didn’t matter anyway. The had both stopped counting how many resets there had been. Numerical milestones had meant nothing, despite their hopes that the tenth, the fiftieth, the hundredth time would finally be the _last_ _one_.

It wasn’t of course.

(It never was.)

They had tried to work together at some point to stop the resets. Despite the huge animosity and tension they had both tried to be civil. Sans had forced himself to be clinical and pushed his emotions of them away, even though Frisk had practically tasted the hatred radiating from him. In return, they made sure to never touch him or mention Papyrus.

They had managed to work together for seven resets, but never gained any information or hypotheses on how to stop them.  And with each reset Sans’ hold on his emotions got progressively worse, until trying to work was practically impossible. It ultimately reached the point where they both decided it would be better to stop working with each other. The animosity was too great and the results too little. They had agreed it would be better to research on their own, and thus parted ways.

**(That was the kind way of saying it.)**

**(Sans killed them.)**

**(They never worked together again.)**

 

* * *

 

It was surprisingly easy to detach themselves from everyone and everything. To just…

Stop trying.

The date with Papyrus was bland and awkward.

Cooking with Undyne seemed tense and sad.

Talking with Alphys felt distant and hollow.

Sans no longer bothered to judge them. There was no point to it.

What could he judge when he had already seen everything?

The fight with Asriel was weak and tired, while the end of it was painful. Frisk couldn’t comfort him. They couldn’t offer words of reassurance. They couldn’t hug him and promise to help him. All they could do was stare blankly and wait.

And when everything was finally over, they found themselves back at the top of the mountain, wondering what they should do. The monsters had already left, either to explore or to notify the others in the mountain. They had already turned down Asgore and rejected Toriel, barely feeling the sting of betrayal and abandonment as she left. It was Frisk’s fault after all. But they refused to force her to bury another child. Especially if it was the last run. It would just be cruel. It would let her finally have a child again, only to lose them later on.

No.

It was easier to cut those ties before they formed.

They slowly sat down onto the rocky floor, the soft orange glow of the sunset illuminating the shadows around them.

(What now Frisk?) Chara whispered, their voice sounding hoarse. They hadn’t spoken a word since the Ruins.  

_We try again._

(But it didn’t work. It didn’t work, it reset anyway.)

_Maybe we just have to do it in a different way._

(Like how?)

_There are many ways to die. Maybe there needs to be blood for the resets to stop._

Chara swallowed harshly.

(Do you even have… have a-?)

_I have the Worn Dagger._

(It’ll hurt.)

_Everything hurts._

Frisk slowly stood up.

(Don’t.)

They froze.

_What do you mean, don’t?_

(Just… don’t. Do it like that, I mean. Please.)

_Why?_

(I think we’ve seen enough blood.)

**bones stabbing them through their heart, their throat, their stomach, warm warm liquid dripping down their body, harsh blue lights the only colour shining through the red red red-**

Hatred flooded their body, and they swallowed. Chara had never liked Sans. That had only... made it worse.

_Oh._

They both went quiet. The setting sun was pleasantly warm, and a quiet breeze swept through the trees. In the distance, they could hear the excited chatter of Papyrus, his words blurring through the rustling of the wind. As they sluggishly viewed the enchanting picture, the sudden drop from the cliff they stood on caught their eye. With heavy limbs, they dragged themselves to the edge and greedily took in the height of the cliff.

If they…

If they jumped… the fall would kill them.

It was definitely high enough for a guaranteed death. Cautiously nudging a yellowed rock with their foot, Frisk watched with curious apathy as it crumbled away and fell down. Despite the drop being somewhat obscured by fog, they could hear the faint crash of the rock a few seconds later.

_Will this work?_

(…Yeah.)

A small smile bloomed on their face, anticipation running freely through their body.

_I have a good feeling Chara. I think- I think this is it._

The gaping emptiness that had consumed them for so many resets slowly shrunk, as enthusiasm and a happy acceptance flooded them. Chara’s joy was practically tangible, their previous lethargy disappearing.

(Are you sure?) They abruptly asked, the eager mood freezing in place.

_Yeah. I’m sure this is the last-_

(No. Are you sure you want to do this? I-I wouldn’t hold it against you if you’d rather not.)

 _What good would it do? The risk would always be looming. And… and I don’t think I want to live anymore. We’ve been through too much. I mean… would we even be able to return to a normal life? Would we be able to look our friends, our_ family _, in the eye, without remembering it all? Without… remembering that they… aren’t the ones we befriended. That we once… killed them over and over again._

_I-I can’t do that._

_I can’t live like that._

_Not anymore._

_I’m too tired Chara._

They stood at the edge, their sneakers peeking over. The soft breeze had picked up and the wind began to stream through their hair, their clothes. The sun had lowered itself even further, the thin streams of light barely reaching over the horizon.

(Let’s go then.)

(Let’s go home Frisk.)

Happy tears gathered at Frisk’s eyes, their soft smile growing into a tired grin. Excitement ran like electricity through their veins, as they readied themselves.

_See you soon Chara._

They jumped.

For a brief moment, they could feel the sun wrap around them, the faded orange sky bright in their view. Time seemed to stop as they watched the frozen beauty of the surface world. The vibrant greens, reds and yellows of the trees, the dusty brown of the mountain in the distance, the golden sun illuminating the gorgeousness of the world.

Time continued.

And

D

O

W

N

.

.

.

D

O

W

N

they fell.

The rushing of the wind echoed in their ears, as the sky rapidly went farther and farther away. Frisk could only focus on the above, still dazzled by the sheer magnificence of it-

Pain exploded through their body for a millisecond-

Then-

**Black.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, I am really not pleased with how this chapter turned out. I'll probably tweak it sometime in the future. But for now, it'll do.


	5. Blood

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 20/05/18 EDIT: Fixed mistakes, added some things, the usual.
> 
> Discord link: <https://discord.gg/jBB4FaT>
> 
> TW: Suicide, gore, the aftermath of suicide.

The kid disappeared again. Sans stared at the stiff Toriel, her face carefully cleared of all emotion. She had caught up with them alone, refusing to speak a word to any of them and ignoring their anxious questions concerning the whereabouts of Frisk. Papyrus was curiously yelling at the former queen, his interest in where they were echoing throughout the trees. Asgore was dancing around the group, hands placed upwards in a placating gesture as he attempted to speak to his glaring ex-wife. Alphys cowered next to her suspiciously quiet girlfriend, stuttering out queries of her own, though they were mostly drowned out by his brother’s voice. Undyne was surprisingly still, her brow furrowed in confusion and worry. Somehow Sans thought she would be the loudest in demanding where her ‘best friend’ was.

He watched her carefully, her eyes distant and focused, as if she was trying to remember something.

And then her baffled expression slowly bled into a look of horror.

Her face paled into a sickening shade of blue, while a scaled hand flew up to her mouth before she doubled over and began retching. Her unexpected reaction went unnoticed by the arguing group as they had started to walk along the path again, unknowingly leaving both him and Undyne behind. Sans turned his attention away from the group and back onto the heaving royal guard collapsed on the ground. He quickly hurried over to her, awkwardly hovering above her.

“Hey, uh, you alright?” He asked uncomfortably, unsure of what he had to do. Choked gasps and sobs answered him, her body shaking violently. She abruptly gagged, before vomit splashed onto the ground beneath her. Sans flinched.

“Oh boy, um, okay, Jesus- Undyne can, uh, can I help ya with something?”

She shakily raised her hands to her face, one palm wiping her lips, the other, covered with dirt, lifted up to cover her eye. The hand that cleaned her mouth slowly curled into a fist and she slammed it into the floor, an anguished scream escaping her. The floor dented slightly, and cracked around it. He stared disbelievingly at the ground, before lifting his gaze to look at her. She yelled brokenly and slammed her fist again, the crack getting bigger. Tears flew freely down one side of her face, the hand that covered her eye doing nothing to stop them.

“Goddamnit…” Undyne whispered hoarsely. “ ** _GODDAMNIT_ ** **!** ”

“Hey, uh, can you, ah, tell me what’s-?”

“ **I forgot! How the** **_fuck_ ** **could I forget?!** _How could I have..._ ”

Sans paused.

What…?

No, he was being stupid.

It was impossible. Undyne couldn’t remember.

...Could she?

A small part of him swelled with hope.

“Undyne. What’s going on?” He asked. She flicked her eye to look at him, panic and desperation blazing through, and he couldn't help but take a step back.

“We have to go get Frisk. Oh god, what if they do it again-!” She rambled, sweat pouring from her forehead as she forced herself to stand.

“Undyne, what’s wrong?”

She shook slightly.

“We got out, we got out and then Frisk was missing for several weeks and I- Oh god… What is happening…?” Nothing made sense to her. They had all gotten out, Frisk disappeared and she found them and then everything happened again, and they were back in the Underground-

Sans froze at her words.

“Is this the first time we’re on the surface Undyne?” He blurted out, desperation and hope threatening to burst out of him.

“No, no, we were there and then- How are we here again, what happened?”

“Undyne, Sans? Is everything alright?” They both jumped at the sudden voice, and whirled around to look at their concerned King. He furrowed his brow at the sight of Undyne on the ground, before worry took over his expression.

“Asgore, we have to go back to the mountain, we have to get Frisk!” She spoke, the desperation in her voice clear.

“Undyne, listen, Tori…el said that they went back home. But I’m sure they will visit-!”

“No, you don’t understand, we have to go get them! Before it’s too late!”

“The kid’ll be fine Undyne,” Sans said, anxious to talk to her about the resets.

“You don’t get it-!”

“C’mon let’s go catch up with the others-”

“I’m sure a cup of tea will do you good-”

“ **JUST LISTEN TO ME!** ” She screamed, the two men flinching at her voice.

“Neither of you were there last time! You didn’t see-” she swallowed harshly; “You didn’t see what I saw.”

“What-?”

“Undyne, he doesn’t know about the-!”

 _“_ ** _They killed themself!_ ** _”_ She shrieked hysterically.

Asgore and Sans froze. Almost immediately, the king’s visage changed, his face carefully going blank.

“Explain,” he commanded. And Undyne spilled.

Asgore gradually grew paler and paler with her tale, his body tense and fists curled. Sans could only listen in disbelief and confusion. By the end of it Undyne was trembling and close to tears. The king looked sick and shook from how tense he was.

“Where-?” He rasped out.

“I-I don’t know. They might have moved,” she quietly replied. He nodded gravely.

“We will search immediately. You as well Sans.”

The skeleton was torn. This was the kid who had caused so much chaos and grief, who had mercilessly slaughtered thousands and thousands of innocent monsters for fun. Who was resetting the timeline over and over again.

(Who was just a kid in the end.)

He steeled himself and nodded heavily.

“Okay.”

Asgore sent him a thankful look.

“Very well. Do you have an idea of where we should-?”

A sickening thump and a wet cracking sound echoed throughout the forest.

Undyne and Asgore went white. Sans could feel his eye sockets widening. Undyne let out a dismayed scream, and the king set into motion. Despite his size, he sped through the trees towards the sound, both Sans and Undyne quickly sprinting behind him. It only vaguely registered that they were running towards the cliff where they had come from.

Asgore burst through the tree line and promptly froze as the thick smell of iron flooded his nose. His eyes were drawn to the bloody mess around five meters in front of him. Splatters of crimson decorated the pale stone of the cliff and soaked the dirt floor. Half of the child’s head had caved in, shards of bone sticking out of grey brain matter. Their neck was twisted at a horrifying angle, with part of the spine torn through the skin due to impact. Broken ribs jutted out from their soaked jumper, as sticky blood pooled around them, glimmering in the dusk. The feeling of Undyne smacking into his back startled him out of his stupor, before he promptly grabbed her and turned her around.

“Don’t look,” he muttered, and ignored her shrieks and sobs as he covered her eye with one hand. Forcibly blocking the view with his body, he spun her around again and hid her face in his chest, disregarding her upset struggling. With a quick motion he hit the back of her neck, before supporting the warrior as she fell limp. Sans stared blankly at the king. He refused to look the comedian in the eye.

“It’s them, isn’t-?”

“Take her away from here. Whatever you do, do not let her look,” Asgore interrupted.

“Asgore-” he started.

“That is an order Sans.”

They stared at each other for a moment. Then, the skeleton sighed tiredly.

“Fine. Just… tell me. Is it the ki-?”

“Yes. Now take her and go.”

Sans swore violently at the king’s response, before calming himself down and throwing the twice as big Undyne over his shoulder. As he turned to leave, he shot a glance at the king, who had his back towards him. Due to his height, he couldn’t look over the monarch’s shoulder to look at the… aftermath, but he could spy hints of red on the rock.

Somehow the sight didn’t fill him with relief as it usually did.

He just felt… shocked. Numb. It was completely fucked up. Sans couldn’t help but wonder however, what the hell had been going through the kid’s head. Were they trying to end the resets?

…Or did they just get bored of waiting for the next reset so they decided to speed it up?

Anger burned in his chest. God, that was sick. If the little bastard was purposely offing themselves and scarring their supposed family just for the timeline to begin again… Well, then he’d give the demon a real reason to want to kill themselves.

 

* * *

 

Asgore stared at the broken body of the child that had saved his people. Again, if what Undyne had said was true. He felt millennia older than he was. He slowly walked up to the child, ignoring the wet puddles beneath his feet. Tears sprung to his eyes when he saw the small smile on their face, one of the only things that seemed to have been kept intact. The smell suddenly hit him again, and he brought a hand up to his face. Memories of other children sprung to his mind, the coppery scent bringing back their deaths.

He let out a shuddering sob, as he sank to the floor. He couldn’t care less about the liquid staining his clothes. Gently picking up the body, he closed their eyelids and cradled them to his chest. His fingers gently cupped the head wound, barely noticing the blood staining his fur. He choked out another sob, tears already streaming down his face.

“I am so so sorry. I am so sorry you had to go through this my child,” he whispered hoarsely into their matted hair.

They were just a child.

They were so young and they had-

A strained yell of agony escaped his lips, and he held on tighter. He openly wept for the child who reminded him so much of his children from long, long ago. Who had managed to worm their way into his heart in such a short time. Who he practically already saw as his own.

And he had lost them.

Again.

He had lost another child.

Again.


	6. Interlude: Limbo

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 20/05/18 EDIT: Fixed mistakes, added a few things, same as usual.
> 
> Discord link: <https://discord.gg/jBB4FaT>
> 
> TW: The usual.

**“Child, you must go back,”** a soft voice whispered through the darkness, breaking the silence that had once ruled the domain. A faint red glow illuminated the gloom, barely shedding enough light to reveal the two lonely figures.

One was a shadowed child, whose soul was too old to be confined in such a youthful form. A child only in body. The light was coming from them, dim as it may be, in the form of a splintered soul.

The other figure blended in with the shadows, his body melted like wax and his face fractured. The only part of him that was truly visible was his face and even then it was missing several parts. An inky slime oozed between the cracks, drooping his eye sockets and smile. Tendrils of the darkness seemed to stick to his body, as if shackling him to the nothingness behind him.

You didn’t spend as much time as he did in the Void without consequences.

 **“Child,”** his voice was quiet and hoarse, and yet it echoed throughout the endless area.

**“Child, you have to go. This is no place for you.”**

…

The child refused to answer, instead curling further into a fetus position. Their arms and sleeves covered their face, their hands tangled in their hair. They barely seemed to be breathing as they rested on the ground, defeat and lethargy radiating from them. The man sighed and carefully walked closer. The strings attached to him stretched and pulled, before they went lax once more. Having reached the child, he gently knelt down next to them and lifted a hesitant hand to their hair. A viscous liquid dribbled down his arm and coated his hand, leaving a slight sheen on the child’s hair where he touched them. Ignoring the substance, he slowly stroked their head, hoping it would calm them down enough for them to talk.

**“I understand that you do not wish to return. You have had a… long and repetitive journey. But this is no place of rest. You will find no respite here.”**

They didn’t move.

The man sighed once more and removed his hand.

**“Frisk. You will not find any answers in the Void.”**

And finally, they flinched. Their body tensed and they tried to make themselves smaller, but the man wasn’t having any of it. He grabbed their arms and softly tugged them away from their face. Fat tears cascaded from dead eyes, rolling over their cheeks and dripping onto the floor. Snot slowly leaked from their nose and they sniffed loudly, while lifting their sleeve to wipe at their nose and eyes. It only stopped the liquid for a moment, before starting up again. The man’s eyes softened and he returned his hand to their head.

**“I have been in the Void for a long time, young one, and I can tell you that staying here will not grant you what you wish for. You would corrode away and become a tortured shadow, cursed to forever wander the timelines. You would be neither dead nor alive, shackled to the place in between, while experiencing your pain over and over again. It is not a fate I wish upon you.”**

Frisk sniffled again, curling their hands into fists and covering their face once more.

 _“I just want it to stop…”_ They whispered, voice muffled by their sweater. The man nodded gently.

 **“It will eventually. Resets are governed by a different set of rules however. It is not... something I am familiar with. I have not seen it used to this effect before. The amount of Determination you radiate child... I wonder just how it might be affecting the resets. But I am sure that you will manage it. And then you will be able to rest,”** he muttered reassuringly. What a poor soul to be so desperate for death. His soul wept for them.

**“Until this time however, I need you to leave and never return to this place.”**

Frisk slowly raised their head to look at him.

 _“What about you?”_ They asked quietly. He tried to give them a comforting smile, but only managed a droopy grin.

**“I will stay here as I have always done.”**

_“Won’t that hurt you?”_

**“I am sturdier than I seem, young one. I shall be quite alright. There is no need to worry about an old man like me.”** Frisk reached upwards to touch his face. The sudden contact startled the man, before he smiled sadly down at them.

 **“What a gentle child... I wish your journey had not taken such a toll on you,”** he mumbled, carefully touching their still wet cheeks.

_“…Who are you?”_

He smiled once more.

**“A silly old man who made a mistake.”**

_“…What’s your name…?”_

**“You may call me Gaster, child.”**

The two stared at each other for what seemed like hours, before Gaster gently sat Frisk up.

**“You must go now young one. I fear any longer will damage your soul and mind.”**

A soft light appeared a few meters away from the duo. He quietly helped the child stand up and led them to the gateway that would return them to their timeline. A selfish part of him wanted the human to stay, no matter the consequences. He didn’t want to be alone in the endless darkness, shackled to the emptiness of the Void for eternity. Not after finally having contact with a real, living person. He could grab them, hold them tight and destroy the gate-

He immediately forced the thoughts from his head.

He couldn’t do that.

He refused to damn a child to this hell simply because of his loneliness.

Pushing down his fear of being alone again, he softly pushed Frisk towards the opening.

 **“Goodbye child. It was a joy to meet you.”** He gave them a kind smile. They swallowed and turned to look at him. Before he could even react, they hugged his melted body. Ignoring the oily tears that sprung to his face, he hugged them cautiously back. He awkwardly patted their shoulder and moved away quickly. A lump formed in his throat.

 **“You… You should go.”** He whispered hoarsely. Frisk looked down.

_“…Okay.”_

 Shooting him one last glance, they gave a tired smile and walked through. He doubted they would remember him. It was a miracle they even managed to find their way here.With a heavy heart, he watched the child approach the gateway. The light brightened for a moment, before disappearing completely.

And he was alone again.

 

* * *

 

“They’re dangerous-!”

“They’re a fucking child!”

“You don’t understand! You didn’t see them slaughter-!”

“No, YOU don’t understand-!”

“-Killed us all! Over and-!”

“-And they’ve saved us how many times?! At least they-!”

“-They murdered Papyrus with no-!”

“-Freed us all! And now they might be-!”

“It’s not like they haven’t died before-!”

Sans froze at his slip-up and averted his eyes. Undyne stared in open shock at him, dismay entwined in her face.

“…What…?” She whispered, a stark comparison to the volume she had been shouting with before. Her voice was still hoarse from the screaming after the... incident. The skeleton fidgeted, still refusing to look her in the eye.

“It’s really not that big of a-”

“How many times?” She asked lowly. He gave her a half-hearted shrug. Suddenly he heard the low hum of magic being weaponised. Sweat dripped down his skull and he swallowed nervously.

 **_“How many times Sans,”_ ** the warrior hissed out, her spear heading dangerously close to his head. He flinched at her tone, before forcibly steeling himself.

“I don’t know. Honestly, I don’t. A lot, I guess. There were a lot of monsters that attacked them. I never really counted, cause it didn’t really matter. They just came back to life like it never happened. No matter how many times the kid was killed- …oh fuck.”

Undyne’s spear fizzled out of existence and she trembled. She went deathly pale again, her face contorted in horror. A clenched fist covered her mouth, as she slowly sank to the ground, before whipping her head upwards to gaze pleadingly at him. He avoided her face, instead choosing to focus on the small fire they had made.

“Sans,” she pleaded, “Sans, please, please tell me I didn’t- I didn’t-!”

He refused to look her in the eye.

“Sans!” She choked out, her voice begging.

He let his own eyes close.

“…I…listen, you wouldn't have been the only one. We… we’ve all killed them at some point. More than… once."

She wailed.

He blocked out her agonised keening, forced himself to ignore her desperate apologies to someone who wasn’t there.

Tried to pretend the guilt that was choking his entire being wasn’t plaguing him.

But when the sky and forest slowly faded out of existence as it had done so many times before, he couldn’t stop the relief that welled up inside him.

The run was resetting.

And Sans prayed that neither Undyne nor Asgore remembered in the next run, that they would forget everything like they always did.

Because if the next run was a genocide run…

It would break them.


	7. Interlude: Memory

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So.  
> Sorry.  
> I, ah, should have updated sooner? I only really have the excuse of laziness and school to be honest. But meh. Here's a chapter. A new one should come out soon.  
> Should.  
> Maybe.  
> Probably.  
> Chapter is kinda crappy. A bit rushed? Yeah... sorry about that.
> 
> 20/05/18 EDIT: Fixed mistakes, added a few things, the usual. Also, I am not an abuse survivor and can therefore not give an accurate account of abuse. If I make mistakes or have done something wrong, please tell me. I do not want to trivialise or glorify child abuse. 
> 
> Discord link: <https://discord.gg/jBB4FaT>
> 
> TW: Blatant child abuse and neglect, suicidal ideation/thoughts and suicide.

You never really had the chance to be a child. From a young age you had been forced to fend for yourself, because no-one else would. The people who should have loved and raised you, should have smothered you in love and protection, abandoned you to your own survival. Discarding you to the streets would have been a kinder than the life you were dropped into. From the moment you turned six, you had taught yourself how to pick apart the most edible pieces of garbage from the ones that would make you sick, as well as how to hoard and make it last as long as possible. You learnt how to avoid and clean up the painful shards of glass and the ominous needles that constantly littered the living room of your house.

**_(not home)_ **

**_(never, ever home)_ **

You quickly discovered where the best places to hide were, how to make yourself small enough to fit in different nooks and crannies, how to regulate your breathing so that you barely made a sound, how not to be caught.

Of course, you rapidly picked up what to do when you _were_ found. Your ability to dodge hadn’t been made in the Underground after all. No. Years of dodging flying bottles and meaty fists had created that skill.

You knew that you lived in a broken home. Normal children didn’t have a druggie mother or an alcoholic father. Normal children didn’t have parents that would scream and hit each other at every opportunity.

_normal children didn’t have that abuse turned on them_

Normal children didn’t know how to clean up ‘mummy’ when she overdosed. Normal children didn’t know that they had to hide when ‘daddy’ started to drink vodka.

_normal children didn’t have to do that_

normal children didn’t name themselves

normal children were loved by their parents

…

(…but you were never a normal child.)

…

**(you were a mistake)**

...

Somehow, you expected to wake up again. You knew, deep inside of you, that the resets weren’t over. It had been wishful thinking on your part. A silly, unobtainable, desperate wish that maybe, just maybe, this time would be different. But since when did the resets ever care about you?

Instead, you found yourself staring up at the hole that had led you into this sadistic wonderland, eyes watering from the bright beams hitting your face.

(you weren’t crying because you had failed again)

(you weren’t)

Forcing your eyes away from the burning sun, you turned your head to look at the flowers. The patch you lay in itched and poked against your skin, becoming increasingly uncomfortable. You didn’t care though.

You didn’t want to move.

Bright yellow petals cluttered around your face, the tiny flowers moving in rhythm with your breath.

In

…

Out

…

In

…

Out

…

In

..

Out

…

You ignored the cold tears that slipped from your eyes.

…

In

..

Your nose slowly clogged up.

…

Out

…

Snot dribbled from your nose, irritating the skin of your upper lip.

…

In-

You couldn’t focus on your breathing any more, your stuffed nose breaking the quiet pace. Instead, you swallowed, and lifted a sluggish hand to your nose. You used your sleeve as a handkerchief, not bothered by the watery snot that stuck to it. Then, you turned your body and curled up. Burying your face into your arms, you continued to ignore the flowers tickling your skin and the tears that stained your jumper.

In that moment, you just couldn’t care about anything.

Not living.

Not dying.

Not the resets.

Nothing.

You just wanted to lie down there forever and never move. The gaping emptiness that constantly swallowed your entire being seemed to lessen just a little bit. Your mind was blank; your thoughts swept away to a corner, where they were locked down and muted. You knew that Toriel, or maybe even Flowey would come by soon, but you just couldn’t care about it. You weren’t going to move. What was the point of it anyway? Was it even worth it to free the monsters again? They would just get trapped down here again, with no memories of it all. And then the whole thing would start up again. Go through the Underground, make friends, get killed, make more friends, fight Asriel, free the monsters, reset.

Again.

And again.

And again.

Maybe you could just hide this time. Run away from everyone and hide in the deeper parts of the Underground. Shove the responsibility onto a different human. Maybe then everything would stop.

Maybe that was the key to it all.

Let someone else go through the Underground and befriend everyone. Let them free the monsters. And when they faced off Asgore, maybe you could jump in and offer your soul. You could probably talk Flowey out of their plan. Force Chara to change their brother’s mind.

A small shaky smile made its way onto your face.

(You were lying to yourself again, you knew you were lying, but you just couldn't care.

You had a plan.

For the first time after all of these resets, you had a plan that _might work_.

(It wouldn't. Why did you insist on pretending so hard?)

 _You had a plan_ _that could work._

(But nothing would ever be that simple for you, would it.)

 

* * *

 

Asgore woke up with apologies on his lips and tears matting his beard, the image of the broken child who had saved him and his people seared into his mind. He woke up to the scent of blood in his nostrils and the phantom feeling of sticky liquid coating his fur. He woke up to his grief sharpened once more, the dull ache it had eventually become turned back into fresh pain. For a few moments the king could do nothing but weep, still trapped in the memory of seeing the child he owed everything to dead. And by their own hands no less.

All he could think about was whether that was the reason the child had refused to go with them. If the pain they had felt was too great to be cured through family and friends, through therapy and medication. Asgore wanted to vomit at those thoughts. Were they trapped in such despair, that death had been the only option? That the only freedom they could have was not on the surface, but in suicide?

The king choked on his tears, the pain in his soul spiking.

Frisk was just a child.

They were just a child.

Children should not be as anguished as they had been.

What the hell had happened to them to cause this?

How could it happen?

**_(how could he have not seen it?)_ **

It was only after Asgore calmed down, that he noticed his surroundings. The familiar grey ceiling that he had woken up to every morning. The strong, king-sized bed he fell asleep on almost every night. His eyes slowly traveled to take in the rest of the room. The rusty trophy he had won with Toriel, the vase of golden flowers decorating the top wardrobe, his old leather-bound journal, the childish drawing…

(Another sharp pang traveled through his body, tears springing to his eyes once more. The king bit his lip harshly, trying to bring his focus back to the room. He had to concentrate. He had to find out why he was back in the Underground.)

_(…what…? why… wouldn’t he be in the Underground…?)_

Steeling himself, he slowly stood up, mindful not to hit his horns against the wall. Why… was he in his room in the Underground? Had Sans or Undyne brought him here after-

After-

…

after-

.

.

.

a f t e r. . . ?

After… what?

Asgore blinked in confusion, his mind having suddenly blanked out. What… had he been doing again…?

  
Oh.

That’s right.

He had a bad dream.

The king shuddered.

He couldn’t quite remember what the dream had been, but it was terrible enough to muddle his mind.

He swallowed, shaking his head slightly. It was silly of him to be so shaken by a dream.

Even so, something nagged at him. Something important that he had to remember. Asgore narrowed his eyes, trying to recall what he had forgotten.

Nothing came up.

Sighing, the king relaxed his body.

It was nothing a cup of tea couldn’t fix.

Talking of fixing, he suddenly had the strangest urge to fence up every high-up place.

. . .

. . .

**_(he would eventually discuss his idea with some of the guards. after several dangerous walkways were discovered, a plan was made to put fences up.)_ **

. . .

_(it didn’t stop the desperate terror he felt every time he saw heights.)_

 ...

(it didn't stop anything.)

* * *

 

Gasping and covered in sweat, Undyne shot up from her bed, her heart pounding and eye tearful. Her discussion with Sans still echoed in her mind, the weight of her sins practically crushing her. How many times had she slaughtered the child who had wormed their way into her heart? How many times had she mutilated their body, been willing to pay the price of murder just for freedom? How many times had Frisk fought against her, only to be beaten down and killed each time?

How many times had they befriended her even after she had mercilessly executed them?

How could they call her-?

Undyne let out a strangled sob and covered her face in despair.

God… She was absolutely disgusting. No wonder the kid was so messed up. Having to be killed over and over-

She froze.

Slowly, she lifted her hands from her face, and stared at the room she was in.

She was…

At home.

In her bedroom.

Before it had burnt down.

Undyne’s throat went dry.

Had this… been what Sans was talking about?

Had the world…

reset…?

Bile flooded her mouth.

Did that mean… that everything was for nothing? That everyone had finally reached the surface, only for it to be ripped away?

Undyne let out a choked sound as another thought assaulted her.

Did that make Frisk’s death meaningless?

That every death they went through, every sacrifice they made, was completely pointless?

_(how worthless did it make them feel?)_

But-

It also meant that she could try again.

That she could fix things.

A watery smile appeared on her lips.

Frisk was alive.

Frisk was alive and she could save them.

No.

Not could.

Would.

She would save them.

No matter what.

 

* * *

 

_(in a house far away, a skeleton sat up with fury in his eyes and worry in his soul. he’d stop the little bastard this time. he refused to sit back anymore. not if it meant breaking undyne and asgore’s heart.)_

**_(the piece of shit was gonna regret messing with the monsters. they were gonna regret messing with his_ ** **family** **_.)_ **

**_(no matter what.)_ **


	8. Plan

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would like to thank @indecisiveauthor for their encouraging and flattering review! You gave me the kick that helped me finish off this chapter. I was floundering before with how to end it, but you motivated me! Thank you very much!!!
> 
> 20/05/18 EDIT: Fixed mistake, added a few things, and changed something that I thought might be important later, but turned out not to turn up again
> 
> Discord link: <https://discord.gg/jBB4FaT>
> 
> TW: Self-harm, suicidal ideation, the usual.

Despite her brashness and her tendency to charge in, Undyne wasn’t the captain of the Royal Guards just because of her might. While strength certainly played an important role, a good captain had the capability of planning ahead, of making reliable strategies. Undyne had to learn how to scheme and maneuver, how to refuse her primary instinct to leap headlong into a fight in order for her to even think about considering the position of captain. Once upon a time, she had been arrogant with her power, blindly believing that she could beat anyone and anything. Asgore had changed that notion, turning that arrogance into confidence, teaching her how to assess her opponents and how to best subdue them.

(never kill. never ever kill.)

(that was asgore’s burden to carry. though he never told her that.)

(but it seemed like she had done it anyway.)

Undyne’s current situation was one that she couldn’t blindly rush into. She had no idea when the tiny child would show up in Snowdin, if they even remembered, if she could help them, if they even _wanted_ to be helped… She took a deep breath and retrieved paper and a pen. Standing around and worrying about it would not answer any of the questions she had. No, she would have to formulate a plan that she could follow and use to help the child. She sat down at her table in the living room, and spread the paper, writing down everything she could recall from the previous run. When and where she had first heard of the human child, where they had first been spotted, how she could approach them, who had met them-

She froze.

Sans.

Sans knew.

He remembered as well.

He also lived in Snowdin.

And had a grudge the size of the barrier against Frisk.

Undyne’s mouth dried as she recalled his furious words about the broken child. How much hate and disgust in his voice as he had talked about them. How he accused them of slaughtering everyone. How his eyes had promised retribution and pain. How-

She froze and began to shake.

The barrier.

She forgot about the barrier.

How was she going to solve the barrier problem?

She couldn’t just sacrifice Frisk, no, that plan was completely out of the question. Maybe they could find another way to break the barrier? Or just wait for a horrible human to fall down and use them instead?

Undyne swallowed harshly. She knew that the monsters couldn’t wait that long. _She_ couldn’t wait that long. Frustrated, she bit down on her lip, before flinching at the pain her sharp teeth inflicted. The sickly taste of liquid dust filled her mouth and she promptly spat it out. Droplets of the gooey substance landed with a splat onto her floor, before dissolving in a green fizz. Her stomach suddenly lurched as her subconscious couldn’t help but compare the differences between her blood and Frisk’s.

 _a decaying_ (red) _body, bloated from trapped_ (red) _fluids, the smell of rotting flesh poisoning the air_

 _dried vomit and sticky_ (red) _congealed blood dripping from a_ (red) _mouth contorted in peaceful agony_

 _small_ (red) _hands curled like claws, as flies and maggots feast on_ (red) _waxy skin-_

Undyne bolted up from her chair and launched herself to the kitchen sink. She couldn’t help but empty the contents of her stomach, the scorching stink of death and decay clogging her nostrils, her throat, her lungs-

She vomited again, desperate to chase the memory from her sinuses, praying for it clear up and let her _breathe_. With shaking hands, she frantically clawed at the tap and yanked it open, before scooping up handfuls of cold water and throwing it in her face. She breathed heavily and choked slightly as water went up her nose. She coughed and spluttered, but soon resumed with her splashing. The sharpness of the cold water and the stinging in her nose from breathing it in calmed her down and made the smell dissolve into nothing. Her face dripped with cold water and her clothes were uncomfortably damp against her skin. Undyne shivered, before letting out a raspy sob.

Maybe it would have been better if she wasn’t able to remember.

Maybe it would be better if she just… waited for Frisk to come. She doubted that Sans would do anything. He would probably just scare or threaten the child. Confronting the human wouldn’t be good, since she didn’t even have a plan. How would she be able to help them without knowing how? And besides, she had Papyrus on call. If anything happened, she could rush in and stop it.

Undyne had to make a plan. Frisk would be fine. It was only for a few days anyway. They would be fine.

(She muted the voice that sneered at her, angrily screaming that she just couldn’t face Frisk. That she was too cowardly and selfish to try and help their broken soul.  That she wouldn’t confront them because she just didn’t want to _remember_ seeing them dead. )

(She ignored the desperate part of her that begged her to go and get the child, to protect them from themselves, that she was making a terrible mistake.)

Frisk would be fine.

(oh how wrong she was.)

 

* * *

 

Frisk lay spread-eagled on soft leaves, their body completely still apart from their slow breathing. They were hidden in one of the small rooms beneath one of the large puzzles, where if you stepped wrong, you would fall down into one of the chambers. They had blocked up the exit and opening chute, unwilling to let anyone slip down and find them. While Toriel was too big to fall, they knew that Froggits or Whimsums were certainly small enough. Frisk refused to take any chances. They couldn’t let Toriel find them. Otherwise she would get attached and when they gave up their soul, she would be sad. They couldn’t let her go through their death again. Couldn’t let her lose another child.

No, it would be better for her to attach herself to a different child. Let her have a proper kid to look after, instead of a broken one. It would be better for everyone. Papyrus could have a proper friend, Undyne could cook with an enthusiastic child, Alphys could fangirl with someone excited, Asgore could dote and get to know a child who would return the affection.

And Sans...

Sans wouldn’t have to worry.

He would be able to joke and laugh again, be as light-hearted and happy as he was before the first reset.

The monsters could have someone else to make them happy.

Frisk’s chest tightened and tears stung their eyes. Part of them rejected their plan harshly, desperate to get their own happy ending. To try a different way and have a family again.

A different part was furious, angry with how the monsters would get their good ending and Frisk would just die. Would be forgotten.

Again.

How someone else would take their place, would become their child and friend, even though _they_ were the one who fought so so hard to get them to the surface.

But Frisk knew they didn’t deserve their family or their happy ending. The child had too many sins crawling down their back. They were covered in dust and shattered dreams. They were a murderer.

(but they killed you several times too. why do _they_ get to be happy and we don’t? why are _you_ the one who’s disgusting? why are _you_ to blame?) The angry part whispered.

(it doesn’t matter, it doesn’t matter anyway, we can still be a family if we just try, we can try, you can try-) The desperate part pleaded.

Frisk clamped their hands over their ears, trying to block out the thoughts that were threatening to spill over and force them to make a different decision.

They had to stick to their plan. They couldn’t let childish wants get in the way. They knew that sacrificing themselves would probably be the answer to everything. That it would finally free them and let them die.

But why were they willing to live if it meant that some other child wouldn’t take their place? They knew that it was selfish of them, to want to keep their family all to themselves, but being replaced by a different child, knowing that Frisk meant absolutely nothing?

A wave of despair and anguish crashed into them and tore away their fake calmness, making way for hysteria and agony, crippling their already fragile mind and forcing them to curl up into a ball. Tears started fall quickly, and a desperate sob tore through Frisk’s throat. They couldn’t stop the tormented cries that escaped their lips, echoing across the small room they hid in. Their hands moved up to grasp at their hair, their ears still covered by their arms. Pain blossomed on their skull as they harshly yanked the strands clenched between their fists, but they didn’t care. They just wanted the sharp stabbing in their chest to stop, wanted to ease the ache of depression. The pain on their head wasn’t enough and they hastily brought their arms down. Childish fingers forcefully scratched the skin on their forearms, pushing deep enough to tear through a few layers of skin. Blood welled from the wounds and it started to burn. Frisked barely noticed the throbbing sting, and instead continued their frenzied scratching with bloody fingers.

They didn’t know how much time had passed once they finally calmed down and stopped the vicious mutilation of their arms. Bloody ribbons of ripped skin covered their arms, the sticky liquid clinging to their hands and fingernails. The desperation that had numbed them previously disappeared, and Frisk gave a small whimper as their arms burned from the jagged cuts on their skin. Their anguished wails slowly quieted down into broken whimpers as they loosened their painful grip on their arms. Something cold and wispy embraced them gently, and made soft sounds to try and comfort them.

“Shhh… shhhhh, it’s okay… I’ll be… be here…” They started to cry harder at the sympathetic words and moved to cling to the person who was offering them such kindness.

“Oh no… I’m sorry if I’ve made you cry even harder… Oh…” The person shifted to try and wrap their form around them, continuing to pacify Frisk. They let them bury their face into their strangely cool and plush body, and they felt mist like fingers stroking their hair. They both stayed that way until Frisk’s cries quieted down into sniffles.

“Are… are you feeling better…?” The person asked, and Frisk turned their head to look up at them.

Napstablook stared shyly back.


	9. Talk

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 20/05/18 EDIT: Fixed mistakes, changed a lot of things, seriously, a lot. This chapter is most likely going to be smaller than the others because I had to change so much.
> 
> Discord link: <https://discord.gg/jBB4FaT>
> 
> TW: Self-harm, self-hatred, suicidal ideation, the usual.

Frisk struggled out of Napstablook’s embrace and scrambled backwards. Their heart pounded heavily and they could feel the beginnings of a panic attack blooming inside their lungs. The ghost stared at them in worry and confusion.

“Oh… I… I didn’t mean to scare you…” They whispered dejectedly and tried to float towards them. The child stumbled and fell down to the floor, their hands reaching up to grab their hair.

Someone had seen them.

Someone had seen them break down.

Rivulets of blood dribbled lazily down their arms, most of it having already congealed.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, please don’t hate me, please, I’m sorry, I don’t deserve to live-!”  They gasped out, their breathing slowly becoming restricted and heavy.

“No… You… You’ve got it all wrong... Oh… Oh no… You need… to calm down…!” They were no longer listening to Napstablook’s worried words, their mind focused on the fact that they knew, they knew, they must think they were deranged, completely insane, oh god oh god oh god-

The rushing of blood was all they could hear, and they could feel their throat being choked. They couldn’t breathe, they couldn’t breathe, was Napstablook choking them, of course they were, they killed their cousin, they were a murderer, a murderer, they couldn’t breathe they couldn’t breathetheycouldn’tbreathetheycouldn’tbreathetheycouldn’tbreathetheycouldn’tbreathe

noairnoairnoairnoairnoairnoairnoairnoairnoairnoair

**_murderermurderermurderermurderer_ **

**_murderer_ **

**MURDERER**

“You have to breathe! Please! Just listen to me and breathe!”

Suddenly someone was holding them and murmuring softly into their ear, counting numbers and breaths, making them focus on them. The choking feeling slowly released its hold on their throat and their heart began to slow down. Air rushed into their lungs, finally allowing them to breathe properly.

They didn’t know how long they sat there just trying to inhale and exhale, inhale and exhale...

Breathe in, breathe out, breathe in, breathe out.

Breathe in…

And out.

“I’m sorry... I shouldn’t have startled you like that… I’ll explain everything…” Frisk sluggishly turned their head to look up at Napstablook, who was gently stroking their hair.

“Don’t you hate me?” The child croaked out, blinking at the ghost’s startled and incredulous look.

“No… No of course not… Why… Why would I hate you?” Frisk stared in shock at them.

“Because I-!" I killed everyone, I murdered your cousins, I killed everyone in the Underground- "I broke down like that," they finished lamely, voice hoarse from the crying.

Napstablook slowly shook their head.

“Everyone has their bad days. Some are worse that others. That's nothing to be ashamed of,” they explained quietly, before hesitating. "Do you... want to talk about it?"

Frisk could only shake their head mutely. What else was there to say? They couldn't talk to Napstablook, couldn't tell them the reason why they had broken down like that, not without explaining everything. They sniffled loudly, eyes stinging again.

“Well... okay. But talk to someone soon. It'll help, I promise,” Napstablook gently responded. “Whatever it is, I'm sure it isn’t your fault.”

They could only start crying again after that. Because it was. It was all their fault. If they hadn't fallen into the Underground, hadn't left Toriel's house, had just given up their Soul in the first place, then everything would have been alright.

“Oh no...”

The ghost tried to pull them into a hug, but only fluttered awkwardly around them, and they cried more.They just wanted it all to stop. They wanted to have someone pick them up and tell them everything would be alright, that no-one hated them, they _wanted_ -!

Napstablook sat with them for a while, but when it became clear that they wouldn't stop crying any time soon, they started to float off. A desperate part of Frisk wanted to beg them not to go, just wanted their company, any company, but that was selfish. Forcing them to sit there and listen to them cry like a baby was surely going to bore them. 

"Oh... I'm not- I'm just going to get the monster who looks after the Ruins... She knows more about humans, but I'll be right back..." They lingered for one more moment, before hurrying off before Frisk could ask them to stop.

Now they would have to face Toriel. Would force her to see them like this, make her see what they had done to themself-! They couldn't breathe, their sobs getting caught in their throat, choking them, strangling them, they had to leave, they had to leave, they had to-!

"Oh child, I am so sorry I did not see you earlier. Let me get you home and cleaned up, little one," Toriel whispered, picking them up and letting them sob into her fur.

Warm arms encircled them and held them close to her body. Gripping into the fur, Frisk cried harder, as the smell of pie and books filled their stuffy nose and it was so familiar and comforting that it _hurt_. But it wasn't who they wanted. They wanted-

 

* * *

 

“ ** _What did you do?!_ ** ” Undyne screamed in fury as she grabbed the smaller skeleton by his jacket collar and lifted him up to her height.

“Whoa what?! Undyne, what are you doing!?” Sans asked in shock, sweat running down his skull. He had just been minding his business at his post outside of Snowdin when she had stormed out of nowhere and seized him.

“ ** _What did you do Sans?!_ ** ” She spat out venomously, tightening her grip on his collar.

“What the hell are you talking about?!”

“ **Don’t** play dumb with me Sans! You know _exactly_ what, or rather **_who_ ** I’m talking about!” She started to shake him angrily, before throwing him down to the snow covered floor. Undyne summoned up a spear and pointed it at him. The skeleton stared at her in confusion and surprise. What…? Who…?

He froze.

Did… Did she remember…? He noticed of the rage and panic decorating her face, as well as the worry and desperation.

“Three. Days. It’s been three days and no sign of them!”

His eyes widened and he struggled to pull himself up.

“Wait, Undyne-!” He was swiftly knocked back down to the floor by the hilt of her spear, the raw magic buzzing near his face.

“ ** _Answer me! What. Did. You. Do._ ** ” She hissed in his face, the tip of her weapon poised by his skull.

“Nothing! Nothing, I swear Undyne!”

Her mouth contorted into a furious sneer.

“Don’t you fucking lie to me! I know how much you hate them! I bet you slaughtered them the moment they stepped out of the ruins!” Sans scowled at her accusation.

“You’d know all about slaughtering them the moment they stepped outta somewhere wouldn’t you?” He spat back angrily, and he regretted the words the moment they left his mouth. He squashed down the guilt that rose when she flinched backwards. Using the moment to escape from her grip, he jumped away from her and quickly summoned up some of his magic. He wanted to be able to protect himself, just in case she decided to attack.

“I didn’t know did I?! But you? You know! You always know! And **_you_** **_never fucking do anything_** **!** Is it a game to you? Do you enjoy watching us struggle over and over again, while you sit comfortably in the background?! Is it funny watching us murder a child trying to save us?!” Undyne shrieked in rage, tossing her spear at him.

( _'Is it a game to you kid? Do you enjoy watching us struggle over and over again while you just sit there and reset? Is it funny to kill us over and over?!'_ )

The familiarity of her words only served to fuel his anger. He was nothing like that demon, he _had tried, he had done something-!_

They entered a battle.

Sans dodged the attack and quickly launched himself at her. He got in a solid punch, before she managed to knock him away.

“ **A game?** You think I like this?! You think I enjoy going through the same week over and over?! Do you think I _LIKE_ finally being freed and seeing the surface, only to have it ripped away from me?!” He bellowed, ducking the punch headed for his face.

“Well I don’t see you doing anything against it!” She screeched.

“ **Do you think I haven’t fucking tried?!** ”

“So what, you’ve just given up?! Decided to take it out on an innocent child?!”

“ **Ha!** **_Innocent_ ** **!** That’s rich! Newsflash Undyne! That kid is a murderer, a remorseless killer who’s slaughtered us all several times!”

“ **What does that make us then?!** Haven’t we killed them too?”

“They don’t care about anything! They don’t give a shit about us! They’re the ones who see this as a game!”

“Then why do they keep on freeing us?! Keep on being our friends?!”

“Oh they’re not always our friends. Get it into your head Undyne! We’re nothing more than test subjects to them!”

“ **THEN WHY DO THEY KEEP KILLING THEMSELVES?!** ” She screamed, her fist grazing his skull.

**-0.5 HP**

Sans skidded across the snow, before reaching up and tenderly touching the place she punched him. It was a good fucking thing she had barely put any power into that, hadn't even had the intention to hurt him, otherwise he might be nothing more than a pile of dust. Narrowing his eyes, he turned to look at her. She was panting heavily, but what made him freeze were the tears running down her face. Undyne sniffed loudly, letting out a quiet sob. He squirmed in discomfort. She harshly wiped her eye and nose, and quickly turned her back on him.

Undyne ran away.

The battle ended.


	10. Love

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 20/05/18 EDIT: Fixed some mistakes, made it compliant to the previous chapter, the usual. Will hopefully continue to edit later chapters tomorrow.
> 
> Discord link: <https://discord.gg/jBB4FaT>
> 
> TW: The usual.

Frisk lay motionless on their bed, staring blankly at the ceiling. Toriel had finally stopped fussing about them and left to go do some chores, but not before giving them a soft hug and a stern warning to stay put. Their arms were wrapped up with pristine white bandages, the scratches that they had inflicted on themselves numbed from the soothing balm Toriel had smeared on them when they first came.

They hadn’t wanted to go to her.

It seemed that fate was continuously gleeful with tearing apart any scrap of plan Frisk could come up with however. After their... 'chat' with Napstablook, the quiet ghost had brought Toriel to them in hopes that she could calm them down. They had been worried about the gashes on their arms, and while they didn’t know about their past suicides, Frisk supposed that they wanted them to be watched closely and have someone they could use as support. They couldn’t help but crack a small, humourless smile at that.

They couldn’t burden Toriel with their knowledge. Heck, they couldn’t burden her with them at all. They would just make her cry again. Break her heart and destroy her hopes of having a child again.

Their chest tightened painfully, and a hollow feeling swallowed their body.

There was another reason why they hadn’t wanted to go to her though.

Toriel didn’t see them.

She didn’t see Frisk.

She saw a variety of different children.

One of the names she had called them most frequently was Chara. She had usually apologized and hastily corrected herself, but there were the occasions where she barely even noticed her mistake. She said that she loved them, that they were her child.

But she didn’t and they weren’t.

Not really.

Frisk doubted they had ever been truly and unconditionally loved.

(Chara was the only exception, but then again, they were the exception for everything.)

They had loved all of their friends fiercely, even after they realized that their love was not mutual. Every time they broke the barrier, there was affection and support, yes, but it had always felt like it was an obligatory fondness. They saved the monsters; ergo the monsters had to like them. None of them had ever made an effort to learn more about them, about who they were and why they went to the mountain. No-one bothered to question where their parents were or how old they were. They weren’t asked for their birthday.

No-one ever asked if Frisk was alright. If they got hurt badly in the Underground. If they needed to cry.

Instead they were asked to become ambassador. Asked to live with the woman who had abandoned them once they had left the Ruins, who had refused to answer their calls no matter how many times they called her.

They had no real qualms about doing either of the things that had been requested of them, but a small part of them felt used. Angry. It hadn’t been long before their undying love for their friends and monsters had slowly been worn away by resets and the knowledge that their adoration would never be returned. They kept on giving and giving, but nothing was ever given back to them. Only empty words of love and promises of hollow affection.

But despite it all, they had still fallen apart over the thought that someone else would take their ‘place’ and that maybe that person would get the unconditional love Frisk had craved from the monsters, not the empty love that they had been given so far.

Even so.

Frisk did not believe for a minute that the monsters loved them.

Not Toriel, not Asgore, not Papyrus and certainly not Sans.

(Except maybe-)

They were ‘loved’ for freeing the monsters. For showing them mercy even though they never showed any to the child. They were ‘loved’ for who they seemed, rather than who they were. They were content with the idea of Frisk, and not interested enough to learn more.

(But that wasn't quite right, either. They were distorting events, twisting it so they could wallow in more self-pity-)

It didn’t seem surprising anymore that they gave control over to Chara. They were too tired and too bitter to free monsters who didn't care enough about them to be interested in them. So when Chara’s gentle voice whispered honeyed promises of love and recognition and forgiveness into their ears, they couldn’t stop themselves from allowing them to use their body. The resulting chaos and slaughter had caused Frisk to severely regret their decision and began a deep hatred for the venomous spirit.

(What had they done? What **_had they done?!_** )

Of course, like the love they had once felt for the monsters, their hatred as well was gradually stripped away, leaving nothing more than a swirling void of nothingness and a hollow ache that echoed throughout their body.

They sighed heavily and carefully moved their heavy limbs. Thinking of Chara, they realized that their companion had not made an appearance since the last reset. In their mind, they gently reached out for the link they shared together and gave it a soft tug.

_Chara? Are you there?_

There was silence for a moment, before a weak pull on their link answered their call.

(I’m here.)

They both stayed quiet for a moment.

_I’m back at Toriel’s._

(…I know. I saw.)

. . .

(…You... really broke down, huh.)

_Yeah._

. . .

. . .

_I don’t know what to do anymore Chara._

A soft snort answered them.

(That makes two of us then.)

_What do I do Chara? Where do we go from here?_

. . .

(I… don’t know. I keep on wondering whether it would just be better to stay here and see what happens or… or leave and see if we can give our soul to Asgore. Maybe we should do neither of those and just run away. Wait for another human to fall down and let them free the monsters. Who knows? That might be the answer to stopping it all.)

They gave a cold laugh and Frisk bit their lip.

_But how… how long would we have to wait? How long would we be forced to live and pray for a human to fall down so that it could all finally finish?_

They paused.

_I don’t think I could wait that long. Not anymore._

They could practically feel Chara raise their eyebrows in confusion.

(You were gonna do it before.)

_And then what happened? I lost it. And I had only been hiding for a few days. If I tried to hide for a longer term of time, I doubt I would be able to keep going._

. . .

_I… I think the best course of action is to give my soul to Asgore._

. . .

(…Okay.)

 

* * *

 

They left for New Home the next day.

 

* * *

 

Undyne refused to look at him, even as she boisterously cooked with his brother. They hadn’t spoken to each other since the day of their fight. Sans still had bruises from their brawl, and he couldn’t help but be thankful for not only her remarkable restraint when attacking him, but also the thin barrier he had managed to put up when she punched him. He doubted he would have come out as unscathed if he hadn’t.

He watched her carefully, slightly amused by her pointed attempts to ignore him. Sans was still amazed that she could even remember the resets, even if it was only the last one. A small part of him hoped frantically that she would continue to remember and that he wouldn’t be alone anymore. That her memories were a sign of the resets finally heading towards an end. To be honest, he had absolutely no idea what was causing the constant resets. Of course, he had his suspicious that the human was behind it all, but the part of him that still clung desperately to the images of the bright eyed child he had come to adore as much as his brother vehemently denied it. He hated that part of him. Despised the fragment of himself that still loved them. Because those images were a lie, the child was a lie and their love was a lie. How could he have not seen it before? That the child held LOVE instead of love? That all the monsters were just- just _pawns_ in their sick game?

( _But why would they work with us to find a way to stop the resets if they’re the one causing it?_ ) Sans’ traitorous mind whispered and he clenched his jaws together.

_A trick. Or just another game of theirs. They probably got bored and wanted to stir things up again. See how they could rile up the stupid skeleton._

( _But what about Undyne’s words? According to her they committed suicide. Twice._ )

His soul ached at the thought much to his dismay and disgust.

_It’s nothing. Just the little demon getting bored, wanting to begin their game as quickly as possible._

( _But what if it isn’t? What if they’re trying to stop the resets as much as you are?_ )

Sans couldn’t stop the disbelieving scoff that escaped from his lips. Papyrus looked up at him in confusion, but quickly resumed his cooking once he shrugged it off. Undyne stared at him from the corner of her eye, her mouth pressed into a thin line.

 _Let’s say they aren’t resetting. Let’s say it isn’t them. They still killed Papyrus. And everyone else. Several times. So even if they aren’t behind the resets, they still seem happy enough to abuse the fuck outta them to their advantage. I mean, it’s not like it would actually matter who dies does it? Cause everything just resets anyway._ He thought sarcastically, fury dripping in his mental voice.

His mind fell silent.

_Thought so._

“Hey,” Undyne said sharply, shaking him out of his thoughts. Sans slowly turned his head to look at her, an empty grin already plastered on his face. Papyrus no longer seemed to be in the kitchen, and judging by the quiet crashes echoing from his brother’s room, he guessed he had gone to get something.

“Sup Undyne. Didn’t know you were speaking to me again.” The captain bared her teeth at his statement, her eye narrowing into an angry slit.

“Fuck you Sans. I was gonna apologize for punching you in the face, but now I remember why I did it in the first place,” her voice dripped with poison and the skeleton slumped slightly. He hadn’t meant to be so passive-aggressive.

“Sorry Undyne. I shouldn’t have snapped at you like that. I’ve just been… tense lately,” Sans apologized quietly and she seemed to wilt at his apology.

“Haven't we all? Listen… I’m sorry about the fight. I shouldn’t have attacked you like that.” She scrubbed her face with a hand and he suddenly noticed how… _tired_ she looked.

She suddenly gave a deep sigh, before straightening herself.

“Sans. I know you hate them, and while I don’t know the details of what they did, I’m sure that it probably wasn’t anything good. But…We need answers. I’m sorry Sans. I know you don’t want to…”

The skeleton tensed at her words and he couldn’t stop the soundless snarl escaping from his mouth. He just knew that he wouldn’t like what would come next.

“But we have to find Frisk. We need to talk to them.”


	11. Push

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would like to dedicate this chapter to AsexualMew, whose touching comment made me kick my procrastinating butt to the keyboard to finish this chapter. This chapter was absolute hell to finish, but making myself think about it made ideas spawn inside my head.  
> Also! This story is not and will not be abandoned!!! I just had a large block on how to continue!  
> I am so sorry about the shortness (and crappyness) of this chapter. But thankfully! It has given me a proper direction to go! So! Enjoy  
> Warning: Graphic Description of Gore and Death

Papyrus stared at Sans and Undyne heatedly discussing something from his position on the second floor.  His mind whirled from the information he was learning through their angry barbs at one another, hearing disgusted accusations, and quiet pleas.

Undyne had punched Sans?

His brother… hated someone?

They knew… about Frisk…?

Sans… hated Frisk…?

The tall skeleton couldn’t stop his flinch at Undyne’s words.

What… what on earth had happened to his brother? To his best friend?

…

To Frisk?

Papyrus… could only vaguely remember past events. His memories were blurry, a loose recollection of actions and people he had once met and come to know. More often than not he would try to dismiss his memories, since forcing himself to remember just gave him a headache. There was one person, however, who he could clearly recognize every time they showed up.

And that was, of course, Frisk. Frisk. Sweet, kind-hearted, gentle Frisk, who always smiled and supported him. Who was scared of hurting anyone, no matter how small or accidental. Who apologized to plants and flowers they stepped on, before carefully replanting them. Who gave everyone second, third, unlimited chances, because they were just so, so forgiving.

…

Frisk who killed him and everyone else.

But that wasn’t them. Papyrus knew that. He knew that the person who had slaughtered every monster in their way was not the human child he had come to know and love. Contrary to most assumptions, the tall skeleton was… incredibly observant.

He had to be.

Because if he wasn’t, then he wouldn’t notice when Sans forgot to eat or when he overworked himself with his projects. He wouldn’t realize when Undyne needed comforting because she had another bad day or when she needed space from him and other people.

So when he had encountered Not-Frisk, he had noticed something. Something that had immediately sent alarm bells ringing in his mind, and warned him that something wasn’t quite right.

Not-Frisk’s eyes were red.

Every single run the wrong-child went around massacring the monsters, their eyes were red. And yet, once the monster they had attacked fell to dust, their eyes would briefly flash brown. Their expression would contort into horror, before the wrong-child took hold again.

It was what made Papyrus absolutely sure that Frisk was not the one behind his many, many deaths.

Or the repeating runs.

If he had to be honest, the tall skeleton no longer cared about getting to the surface. He just wanted to help the gentle child he loved like a younger sibling. He saw what the runs were doing to them. Saw how they were breaking them down, tearing at them until they were a mere shell of who they once were. His soul ached in agony every time the skeleton saw them reject the… the strange woman (her tortured scream pierced his head, chilling him from head to toe-  where had he heard her, when had that happened, what had hap-?!) from the ruins. When they disappeared shortly after the monsters reached the surface.

He didn’t remember much of the surface. There was only… one memory that stayed somewhat clear in his mind. He couldn’t quite recall the entire context, but he knew that it was something… devastating. It had been Alphys (her begging shrieks mashed together with whispers of failure) crying about something.

No… someone?

Someone…

Frisk?

She had said Frisk…

Was dead.

And suddenly there were screams.

And he remembered.

He clamped his hands on his skull, the scientist’s distraught words echoed in his mind, while the former’s Queen’s anguished wail played over and over again like background noise.

 

* * *

 

Frisk wandered quietly in the snow, making sure to stay in the shadows and out of anyone’s sight. They had managed to walk around the bush containing Alphys’ hidden security camera and kept an eye open for the others that were most definitely scattered around. They didn’t want to alert anyone to their presence, didn’t want anyone to try and stop them. The only person they would consider revealing themselves to would be Undyne, and that was because she would most definitely take them to the king immediately. If they explained to her that they were going to give up their soul, that they willingly wanted to free the monsters, no strings attached, then hopefully she would bring them to the capitol straight away.

The others wouldn’t do that. Papyrus would stall, would be too invested in his friend to even consider bringing them to the king.

 _(-besides, he had never accompanied you previously. instead he had been content to let a child wander the Underground filled with people w_ **_ho wanted them dead-_ ** _)_

Alphys was too fixated on being the ‘main character’. She would help them along, but it would be too slow, filled with useless fights with Mettaton. They would have to go through all of her attempts to get them to need her, to make them call for help.

 _(-but she never responded. she was a coward, a cowar_ **_d, a coward_ ** _-)_

Sans would never believe them. He would think that it was another ploy of theirs to mess with him somehow, to mess with his brother, with the monsters. He would kill them immediately. And wouldn’t let them leave until they reset.

 _(-how many times did your blood stain the snow crimson? how many times did you watch your organs splatter against trees, hear your own skull crack open, feel your limbs be ripped off, over and over and ov_ **_er and over and_ ** _-)_

Frisk bit their lip harshly at the memory, and couldn’t stop themselves from stumbling. Phantom pains laced through their body, snaking into their nerves and poisoning their mind. In the haze of their agony, they wondered why that memory of pain hurt so much more, than the pain they had inflicted on themselves before. Distantly, they registered the feeling of the snow they were sitting in melt into liquid against them, the chill of freezing water soaking their jumper and sticking to their skin. They let themselves fall further into the snow, suddenly not caring whether they made it to the capital or not. They ignored how the ice burned their scratches and their skin, and instead curled up further.

Vaguely, Frisk noticed someone pushing them into their mind, forcing their consciousness to retreat to the back.

(It’s okay Frisk. I’ll take over now. Rest. I’ll wake you up later.) Chara whispered gently to them. (I’ll get you to the capital. It’ll be over soon. I promise.)

 

* * *

 

Chara forced their sluggish limbs to move and stand up. Frisk had lied in the snow for longer than they had thought, and they doubted that they would have had the energy to move if they waited any longer. Shivering, they wrapped their dripping arms around their torso and prayed that what little body heat they had left would spring forward and warm them up just a little bit. Their soaked jumper clung uncomfortably to their skin, while the freezing tendrils of water scorched their body. Stiffly, Chara lifted one foot and brought it in front of them, pushing themselves to take a step.

One step.

Two.

Three.

Four.

They shuddered harshly, their legs screaming at them to stop.

Their skin **_burned_ ** and **_boiled_ ** , worse than the pain of Toriel’s fire hitting them.

Fatigue, depression and _agony_ begged them to just lie down again, to let the snow take them and to stop with all of their attempts

But Chara refused to give up. They couldn’t, not when they had promised Frisk. Swallowing heavily, they forced themselves to continue, to ignore the throbbing in their body.  Their best friend, their sibling in everything but blood counted on them. Frisk had done so much for the both of them already. It was time Chara repaid them. Time for them to look after their precious sibling.

They gritted their teeth and pushed themselves to move.

They would get to the capital.

They would not give up.

They would not fail Frisk.

Chara was filled…

with **DETERMINATION.**

Numbness consumed their body, and their aches and pains were dulled. Energy invigorated their limbs and chased the cold away. With a sharp grin that looked more like a grimace, Chara _moved_.

_Just you wait Frisk._

_I’ll get us to Asgore._

_And then we’ll both be free._

_I promise._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hooo boy. I kind love but hate this chapter? I hate that it's so short and kinda rushed, but I kinda like the feelings and stuff. Bluh.  
> Anyway, next chapter should be...  
> Someday.  
> Oh yeah!!! I should say!!! Once more!  
> This story is not and will not be abandoned!


	12. Decision

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> woop wooop. New chapter here! So, I'm kinda proud of this one? Even though it just... created itself. I had originally like... no plan to do this at /all/. And yet I'm really happy, because it gives me more options to work with...? But anyway, I hope you enjoy this, and there will be some notes on why I took this turn at the bottom. So if you're interested, you can read that. I should update soon, as I'm BRIMMING with ideas. So.  
> Enjoy!  
> WARNINGS: Discussion of death and suicide.

Chara forced their body to move through the thick snow, silently cursing their decision to stay away from the road. While they understood Frisk’s need to stay out of sight, they couldn’t quite understand why they already had to hide in this place instead of ducking away when they reached a more populated area. They were cold, wet, and miserable, and the feeling of Frisk’s misery in the back of their mind did not help. They both knew where all the cameras were and could easily dodge them, and barely anyone ever went down to the Ruins. The only monster they could think of who would venture this far was Sans, and they hadn’t seen a singular bone from the shitty skeleton so far.  

Chara couldn’t stop the gentle fury and hatred that bubbled up quietly at the thought of the controversial bastard. He was so fucking hypocritical that it made them want to hurl. Preferably on his face. He was determined to place all the blame on Frisk for killing everyone a few times, but the asshole never lifted a finger to save anyone, not even his stupid brother, despite knowing exactly how everything would play out. He would just let Chara attack everyone in sight before beating the shit out of them. They refused to believe that Sans wouldn’t attack them before the Judgement Hall in a genocide run, because of the promise he made to Toriel. A promise, by the way, that he had broken from the very fucking start.  

And yet the shitstain had the nerve to act holier-than-thou, as if it was all Frisk’s fault, as if the monsters had never attacked them with the intent to kill, as if they had _never died over and over_ _again because of the fucki_ ** _ng monsters he claimed to love and want to protect-!_**

How many times had Frisk died?! How many FUCKING times had the monsters that preached love not LOVE slaughtered them?! They were all so fucking hypocritical. So patronizing and condescending. Acting like they had never done anything wrong, like they were all angels and perfect beings who never did anything bad!

**Well the sIX DEAD human** **_CHILDREN_ ** **begged to differ!**

_ (they were only fucking children, most of them hadn’t even hit their teens, they were children, children children childrenchildrenchildrenchildrench-!) _

How innocent and nice were they then?! How kind and protective did they treat the  _ children they had  _ **_executed?!_ ** Where was their forgiveness then?! Where was their shitty love in their plan to annihilate humans?!

And they acted so fucking shocked when the children started to fight back, when they stopped being so merciful and forgiving. Because they wanted to live, they wanted to fucking live and not become some meaningless sacrifice for a bunch of thankless hypocrites whose goal was to destroy their home and species. 

The fury and hatred swirling in Chara  _ burned _ , chasing the searing coldness away, leaving only a scorching wrath behind. 

Why should they and Frisk have to die? Why did they have to commit suicide for the monsters who treated them like trash?! Who used them and lied to them and forced them to love them??! Why did their death have to convenience them?! Why did they have to feel so fucking desolate and empty because of those disgusting monsters? What gave  **_them_ ** the right to make them feel like shit?!

Nothing.

_ Nothing. _

Nothing gave them that fucking right.

No.

No.

Frisk was too kind. Too sweet and gentle and forgiving. But Chara… Chara wasn’t. Chara was furious. Their rage wasn’t creating a haze over their mind. No, they could think more clearly than they had for several resets. They were done with catering to the monsters. Frisk would understand. They would be angry, but they would understand. Chara was doing this for their own good. For both of their goods. 

(They would keep their promise to Frisk. They would take them to Asgore.

But their sibling had never said  _ how _ they had to reach the old goat.  _ How _ they had to treat their tormentors.) 

Chara would make the monsters feel what they had felt for so so long. All the desolation, the emptiness, the numbness…

They would cripple them. Make them feel guilt. So so much guilt. They would force them to be as lost as they had, to be so desperate that only death seemed like the answer. And even that would be taken away from them. They would make them feel it the next reset. And the next. And the next.

Death was far too kind for those slugs. They would  **destroy** them instead. 

Chara would  **_make them pay._ **

And they knew exactly where to begin. 

 

* * *

The River Person stopped rowing and looked up from their boat. 

“Tra la la…” They sang mournfully. Their hollow voice echoed across the walls.

“ **_A great mistake has been made_ ** .”

They turned back to their boat and focused on the river.

“ **_But whose is it…? I don’t know._ ** ”

They started to row again.

“Tra la la…” 

 

* * *

Flowey stared at the human standing in the snow. The hatred and rage rolled off of them in waves, even as a manic grin spread across their face, and even his unfeeling body couldn’t stop the tendrils of fear from gripping him. Something was wrong. So, so wrong. He would’ve been overjoyed to use such fury in his quest to destroy the monsters, had he not instinctively known that there the human’s wrath was not normal. It was not something he could tame. Nothing good would come out of it. Not for him, not for the monsters and certainly not for the human. 

No.

Flowey had to ignore the fact that the human looked like Chara. That couldn’t be Chara. Not his sibling, his best friend, his other half. 

He couldn’t stop himself from curling up slightly. 

Chara- No.

No.

The  _ human  _ was dangerous. 

It would be best for him to stay away.

Let them destroy the monsters for him, before swooping in and taking the souls.

But he refused to go near them. 

Not now at least. 

Maybe later. 

After watching them. 

He dove into the ground and ran away as fast as he could.

 

* * *

Chara kept to the trees and shadows as they made their way to Snowdin, determined not to alert anyone to their presence. Papyrus’s stupid puzzles were thankfully disabled, and they came across no patrols. They supposed that battling the monsters in the previous timelines had notified the guards that a human had been in the Underground. Even so, they arrived to Snowdin in record time, having not stopped for anything, not even to SAVE. 

Well. If they wanted to go through with their plan, then they couldn’t SAVE. 

Chara took a deep breath, trying to centre themselves as their fury slowly lessened, leaving doubt and numbness behind. They refused to chicken out on this. They had to do this. To protect Frisk. To protect themselves. 

Besides, they had done this before.

They could do it again.

If Frisk could do it twice, then so could Chara.

And anyway, they had taken the much more painful route.

They could do this. They just had to get to the Skeletons’ house. They just had to break open the shed and get what they needed. Then they would be home free.

(hopefully no-one would notice or approach them. but if they were followed…? well… that would just help in the long run.)

Swallowing heavily, they steeled themselves, and crept through the town. 

They had a noose to make. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So...  
> The genre of this story /is/ tragedy guys.  
> But yeah. I have a... lot of feelings concerning Sans. I kinda tolerate him? I used to like him, but after writing this story and really thinking about it, I noticed that he's a bit of a hypocrite. I mean, he's certainly strong enough to stop the player. And he never really kept that BS promise with Toriel either. And Chara... Chara is kinda difficult to write. They may have been a ghost for a long long time, but they're still a kid. They never developed past the age of 10.  
> I've also always been really, really fascinated by the River Person. They know so, so much, but no-one ever really discusses anything about them. Who are they? Why do they ferry people? How do they know all of these things?  
> ...  
> Bluh.  
> Anyway, hoped you liked it! Leave a comment if possible!  
> See you soon!


	13. Words

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy 413! Yes, I am a filthy Homestuck. But even so, as a present, I gift you almost 3'000 words of shit going down. Also! I made a new tumblr, the old one wasn't working for me. So go follow me at https://finespecimanretrieved.tumblr.com/ !  
> Please.  
> I hope you enjoy! Please leave a comment!  
> WARNING: Mentions of blood/gore, suicidal ideation and preparation and flashbacks! Please stay safe if any of these topics trigger you!

“No. Fuck no. I ain’t talking about shit with that little demon.”

“ _Sans_ -!”

“No. And if you know what’s best for you you’ll stay away from them too.”

Undyne sat stiffly on the couch, an angry violet blush overtaking her face as she heard the front door slam. She had tried to talk to Sans about Frisk. Keyword, tried. As soon as she had mentioned the topic, the bony bastard had clammed up before deciding to storm off God knows where. Probably that grungy bar he seemed to love so much. She couldn’t stop her teeth from grinding down, a gentle fury simmering inside her.

“Pap! Papyrus!” She called out, slowly standing up from her previous position. She tried to keep as much anger as possible out of her voice, trying to make herself sound like usual.

“Papyrus!”

There was some shuffling, before the tall skeleton emerged from his room. He looked confused and worried.

“Yes Undyne?”

The captain sighed.

“How much did you hear?” Papyrus froze at her question.

“Ah- Uh- What on earth are you tal-!”

“I’m the captain of the Royal Guard for a reason Pap. And you weren’t exactly subtle. So. How much did you hear?” She interrupted him. She wasn’t in the mood for games and it would be best to assure the skeleton that nothing was wrong. Otherwise she wouldn’t hear the end of his questions and worries.

Oh shit. How was she gonna explain Frisk? Maybe she could play it off as some random monster both Sans and her knew? Papyrus was gullible enough to believe it.

“I- Almost all of it.”

Fuck. Okay. She could handle this. They hadn’t said too much about Frisk. Nothing about them killing themselves-

Her stomach _lurched,_  and she couldn’t stop the image of a small broken body flashing before her eye. Her throat dried up and whatever excuse she had planned to give Papyrus died on her tongue, as splatters of blood seemed to spray across the sides of her vision. The two scenes of death she had witnessed blurred into one, as her mind dragged in elements from both of the memories to fill in gaps. Freshly spilled copper mixed with rotting flesh, as shattered bones pierced through bloated blue skin and maggots wriggled into burst flesh, shaping a tableau of horror and gore.

Undyne retched and dashed into the kitchen, where she promptly expelled the contents of her stomach. Cold sweat and tears dribbled across her face and a harsh sob tore through her throat, forcing her to vomit again. A bony hand softly tugged her hair out of her face, while the other rubbed her back with a gentleness that she hadn’t known Papyrus possessed. She cried even harder. Her legs buckled and she collapsed slowly to the floor, the skeleton’s steady hands making sure she didn’t hurt herself. He cautiously pulled her closer, wrapping his arms around her in a comforting hug, before lowering her head down to his chest. He let her tug desperately at his shirt as she bawled uncontrollably into it, humming quietly in an attempt to calm her down.

“I failed them Pap- I failed them, I let them down, I should have noticed, oh God what did I do, what did _we_ do-?!” Distorted words spilled out of Undyne’s mouth between sobs and hiccups and gasps for air, jumbling and confusing their meanings. But Papyrus had an idea of what it was about, and muttered gentle reassurances to her.

Neither of them noticed the small figure breaking into the skeletons’ shed.

 

* * *

 

Sans clutched harshly at his ketchup bottle, ignoring the liquid oozing from the top due to his grip and the fact that Grillby was staring at him with neutral curiosity.

“Bad day?” He asked quietly, his deep voice acting like a balm to the skeleton’s many emotions. In response to the bartender’s question, he let his head fall to the smooth bar with a small clunk and a muffled reply of: “That answer you?” before looking up slightly.

Grillby gave a hum, his burning hands reaching out to grab a glass and a rag. Sans watched as he carefully polished the glass until it gleamed, before he moved onto the next one, the repetitive motions calming him down even further.

“Do you wish to talk about it?” The skeleton gave a sigh.

“I just… I had another fight with Undyne.” The fire monster paused his polishing and his flames slowly tinged with blue. Sans froze at the sight, before shaking his hand wildly.

“No, no, it wasn’t like last time! No need to get your flames in a twist Grillbz. We just had a… disagreement.”

“Your last ‘disagreement’ ended with you having only half of your HP. Forgive me if I remain sceptical. I was after all the one who patched you up.” Giving a sheepish smile, the skeleton shook his head.

“Yeah, thanks again for that. But no, she didn’t hurt me this time. We just… had a difference in opinion,” he paused and turned back to his ketchup bottle. The bartender tipped his head in a motion for him to continue. Eyes focused on his beverage, he gave a quiet sigh.

“I just… I don’t know what to do Grillby. God, I don’t even know how to explain it.”

“Try.”

“…Say you know someone. You’ve… known them for a long time. And in the beginning, they were one of the best things in your life. You adored them. But as time goes on, they start to do… bad things. Like hurting people. People you’re close to. And they’ve done it over and over, but no-one remembers or notices, and then they just go back to being _normal_ , but you _know_ that they’re bad; you _know_ that they’ve hurt monsters! They think your life and your friends’ lives are just a game, that nothing matters, but then- Then you find out that they’ve been hurting themselves. And one of your friends notices, fuck, even sees it happen, and demands that you talk to them, that you get over your hate for them, because ‘they’re in pain’ and ‘they need help’, even though you’ve told her what they’ve done to you!” Sans hissed in fury, squeezing the bottle in his hand tightly.

“And I know, I just _know_ that this is some sort of fucking ploy to get a reaction from us, some new way to entertain themselves-!” The bottle exploded, spraying his hands and the bar counter with ketchup. He froze in his spot, before letting his tense form go limp, the rage slowly draining out of him.

“Sorry about that Grillby. I- here, give me a rag or something and I’ll clean it up.” He reached out and tried to snag a cloth from the other side of the bar, but stopped when Grillby shook his head.

“I’ll do it. How about you go rinse your hands? We can continue this after.” He suggested softly, nudging his head in the direction of the kitchen. The skeleton nodded hesitantly, slowly pushing himself off of his bar stool and wandering into the kitchen. Watching his friend disappear into his kitchen, Grillby slumped slightly and raised his hands to rub at his temples. The information that Sans had spewed out was confusing, incredibly so, but he knew that it was having a strong effect on him (and Undyne). From what he could gather, the skeleton had made a dangerous friend (?) that was causing him and his brother grief. His friend (Undyne) wanted to confront this person and help them, but Sans was refusing, most likely scared that the person would hurt him and his brother. But what stumped Grillby was the person’s sudden change in personality, as well as their recent tendency to hurt themselves was. It was worrying.

A thought hit him. What if Sans was misunderstanding the situation? He had seemed so convinced that the person was out to ruin their lives, but… well, perspective goes both ways after all. While Grillby didn’t want to put his friend in danger, if he had really been close to this person for such a long time then maybe it would be best if he went to investigate what was really happening?

The door to the kitchen pushed open and the bartender straightened himself.

“Sans,” he cautiously said, “I think I may have an idea on how to help you.”

The skeleton tensed and stared incredulously at him.

“What? Seriously?!”

“You asked me for help did you not?”

“Yeah, but I didn’t actually think- Fuck it. Shoot Grillbz. What grand idea do you have?”

“From what I gathered, you are scared that this person will hurt your brother and the rest of your friends. What worries me however, is your friend’s sudden personality change. What were they like before they became aggressive?” He asked gently, and Sans gave a deep sigh as he walked back over to his barstool. Hefting himself onto it, he scrubbed at his face with his hands.

“They were really gentle. Pacifistic, wouldn’t hurt a fly. The kid loved my jokes and would always try to respond to them the best they could. Though they were really quiet most of the time. I don’t think I’d ever heard ‘em say more than five sentences at a time. Whenever someone attacked them or hurt them, they wouldn’t fight back. Instead they would look for a peaceful ending, no matter how many times they had… to… do it…”

“That change in character sounds incredibly off my friend. Do you know if something happened to cause it? Something traumatic?”

( _“I swear Sans, it’s not me-!”_ **“Who else would it be?!”** _“Sans please, I want it to stop too!”_ **“Is this all a game to you?!”** _“Nothing is working; I don’t know what to do…”_ **“You’re crying?! I’ll give you something to cry about!”** _“I’m not the one resetting! Please, don’t kill- hurk-!”_ **“You don’t deserve to live.”** )

( **ten resets, red against white, blood blood blood, their small body broken against a tree, in the snow, on the rocks-** **_fury fury fury furyregret regret they’re dead, they’re dead-_ ** )

“Sans?”

“I- yeah-? Maybe?” He choked out, trying to lock his intrusive memories away, to no real avail.

“…An event like that could seriously traumatise someone, especially if they are a child as you have described. I believe that the best course of action would be to personally confront them, though I know that you have no wish to do so. But speaking to them may shed some more light on to the situation. If you really are adverse to it, then I recommend maybe following them- Are you alright?”

The skeleton couldn’t concentrate on his friend’s words. While a part of him acknowledged and remembered what he was saying, most of his focus was on one thought.

(Did I… Did I drive them to madness? Was it my fault?)

(Was I the one who traumatised them?)

(Is it my fault my brother died so many times?)

(Am I the reason they keep on trying to kill themselves?)

“I have to go.” Sans blurted, thick, sickly magic swirling in his body.

He felt sick.

Sick and torn.

Part of him was convinced that all of this was just another part of the kid’s ploy for attention and entertainment. But Grillby’s words kept on echoing throughout his mind, unlocking memories from _before_ that he had tried so hard to ignore and never think about again. Flashes of Frisk’s gentle demeanour, their kind smile and sweet patience, their quiet joy whenever he told a joke or the stunned happiness that appeared on their face whenever someone hugged them.

(Desperate eyes pleading him to believe them, that it wasn’t them causing the resets, even as their face was contorted in pain, blood dripping lazily from their mouth and the gaping hole in their chest.)

The skeleton stumbled frantically out of the bar, before leaning haphazardly against one of the walls. The cold air had quickly soothed his distressed body and was slowly numbing the whirlwind of thoughts in his skull. He let himself stand there for several minutes with closed eyes, slowly calming down. The sounds of the village around him acted like white noise and drowned out the more intrusive and harsh thoughts. The monotonous interactions of the monsters around him carefully lulled him into a more relaxed state, easily becoming familiar and comforting to Sans.

So when the sudden sound of quick footsteps injected itself into his hearing, he couldn’t stop himself from startling and opening his eyes. Confused, and slightly curious, he scanned the small gathering of people around him, trying to spot the person who had woken him. A small movement caught his eye and he immediately focused his attention on to the small figure dashing through the snow with a coil of rope in their hands.

Narrowing his eyes in confusion, Sans stared at the person, the shape and structure of them looking familiar. He couldn’t quite catch their entire appearance, but from what he could make out, they were covered in twigs and dirt. Something nagged at him to follow, to see where the strange person was sprinting to. He debated the issue for a few seconds, before shaking his head. It wasn’t his problem. Besides, he didn’t know the person, and following them would be incredibly weird and creepy. Shoving his bony appendages into the pockets of his jacket, Sans turned around and started to head home.

When he arrived at the edge of his house, he saw the broken door of the shed, the small, sunken footprints heading into the direction of Grillby’s, and _swore_. Slightly furious, he spun around and dashed after the tiny thief.

 

* * *

 

Chara clutched the rope in their hands, racing as quickly as possible towards the bridge where the Gauntlet of Deadly Terror would have been set up. The bridge had changed quite a lot since the last reset, the edges of it having been fenced off, which was somewhat baffling. But… well… the fences only served to help their plan even more. It gave them a sturdy place to tie their…

Their noose.

They bit their lip harshly, relishing in the sharp sting of pain that it brought.

They couldn’t wimp out now.

They had to do this.

Had to go through with it.

They skidded to a halt once they arrived, and couldn’t stop themselves from tensing in anticipation. With numb and trembling fingers, Chara slowly began to make the noose, tugging the rope around their neck every so often to measure it. Their unsteady hands made it hard to tie the knot, but they eventually managed, silently thanking the survival lessons they had been put through so many many years ago.

They stared at their finished work with shaking arms, before grabbing the other end of the rope and tying it firmly to the metal fence. Giving it an experimental tug, they smiled in grim satisfaction at the strength it showed. They gulped softly at the next step they had to do and cautiously climbed over the looming fence, the noose looped over their arm to free both of their hands. Once at the top of the fence, Chara carefully positioned themselves so they could sit comfortably and securely without their hands. They gently unwound the rope from their arm, trying to ignore the quiet knowledge of what would come next. With trembling hands, they placed the noose over their head and around their neck, before swiftly tightening it.

So.

They were done. They just had to-

“ **Hey! Did you-?!** ” Chara jolted at the sudden voice, hurriedly clinging to the fence to stop themselves from falling.

(wait? what? why were they-?)

Swivelling their head around they went to go tell whoever was bothering them to fuck off, but the words died in their mouth.

“…Frisk…?”

Their fury rose up again, yet it was quickly quenched by the vicious satisfaction that rose up inside them at the sight of the bastard’s wide eyed horror. They had hoped someone would come by, but Sans? Sans?!

This was better than they had ever imagined!

Oh they would enjoy this. They would enjoy seeing the bastard collapse to the floor in guilt.

Chara would _relish_ making him pay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wahey! There you have it! I thankfully have holidays for two or three weeks, so there may be a quick update, but don't hold your breath! Please leave a comment if you like it, and go check out my tumblr https://finespecimanretrieved.tumblr.com/! I need more people to follow!


	14. Unspoken

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So! Short, but heavy chapter! I'm sorry I haven't updated sooner, but I kinda went into a dip and just became a lethargic worm. Bleh. But, I managed to crawl out and churn out this chapter! I hope you enjoy! Don't forget to check out my tumblr: https://finespecimanretrieved.tumblr.com/
> 
> !WARNING!: Mentions of substance abuse, allusion to human trafficking and child prostitution, child abuse, and suicide. Please read at your own discretion. If you want to skip some of these parts, then please go to the first line break!

“Sweet-pea…” A sweet voice cooed, gentle footsteps padding across the dirty floor. “Come out for mummy sweetheart. Mummy needs you… There are some nice people who want to meet you!” 

You couldn’t breathe. You couldn’t dare breathe. If she found you, then you were sure that your hell would become a lot, lot worse. You had heard the horror stories from some of the other kids that you would occasionally encounter on the streets when you needed to disappear for a few days. Little ragdolls tossed into the trash when they broke, when they had no use or there wasn’t enough money to go around. With glazed eyes and skin raw from scratching they would weave quiet tales of the jobs their parents had sold them into. Usually for money or drugs. 

Those fragile children rarely got out of their trade. 

The ones who did never survived long, the scars too deep and the help too little. 

They usually died within a week of escaping.

And now…

Now you had an idea of what was happening. Who those people downstairs were and what they planned to do. 

Your mother had to be desperate. Desperate for money, for a fix, or just desperate to get rid of you. 

God, it was the end for you, wasn’t it?

“Come out darling…!”

You knew that if they took you, you would never be found. Who would try to? 

The police? They didn’t know you existed.

The government? They couldn’t give a shit. 

“Where are you sweet pea?”

The other street kids? You weren’t close to them, and even if you were, it was every person for themselves. 

You were going to become one of those broken children, undocumented, forgotten, unknown.

It was the end of the line.

You barely had any options. 

“Mummy’s getting impatient baby…!” The footsteps were closer than before.

You could come out quietly, go along with them and resign yourself to your fate.

You could try to run. 

Swallowing, your eyes flickered over to the secret panel hidden within the cupboard you were crouched in. 

Or you could end it yourself. Your fingers trembled as you went to nudge the panel open. Reaching inside, you wrapped your quivering hand around the handle, and pulled out a rusty kitchen knife. 

The cupboard opened.

You knew what to do.

“Found you, Cha-ara!”

Gripping the knife, you charged. 

 

* * *

Nervous sweat dripped down the skeleton’s skull as he stared at the child with a noose tied around their neck balancing on the fence. He was speechless. Any feelings of animosity and hatred had fled him, instead leaving him with a cold terror that crushed his bones. 

“…Frisk…?” Sans croaked out, his throat strangling his voice and whatever words he wanted to say. His mind was blank, the thoughts that had been plaguing him before abruptly vanishing. The human flinched and spun around, and he felt his soul lurch at the dead expression on their face. Their lips tugged up into a small, broken smile, and while something vulnerable crept into their eyes, the blankness in their gaze did not disappear. Nor did the line of rope wrapped delicately around their thin neck. 

“Sans,” they whispered shakily, desperate fear bleeding into their voice, and for a moment he thought that they were scared of the rope, scared of what they were going to do, but then he saw that quiet vulnerability in their face and a horrified realization washed over him. 

They were scared of him. 

They were terrified  _ of him _ . 

For some reason, the idea of it didn’t fill him with the vicious satisfaction he thought it would’ve. 

“If you’re here to kill me…” Frisk said hesitantly, “…then I’m afraid I’ve beat you to it.” 

Sans felt desperation slam into him and unclog his throat. Carefully thought out sentences just wouldn’t form, his mind was hazy and thick, he couldn’t  _ think _ , and his frantic fear took over his mouth. 

“Is this a game to you? Do you really think I’m that stupid?”

**_What is he saying, why the fuck is he saying that-_ **

“You think I’m gonna fall for this? Take you in, look after you, only to watch you stab me in the back?! For you to kill everyone again?!”

**_Why isn’t he shutting up, why can’t he stop talking-_ **

“Did you get tired of our story?! Decided to spice things up a bit?!?” 

He can see tears welling up in their downcast eyes, the blank mask they had on before slowly taking over their face again.

“You… thought it was me…?” 

Sans froze at their broken whisper.

“You thought… I killed you?” 

Something starts to crawl on his bones.

“It wasn’t me… It… It wasn’t me. You thought…”

It didn’t make sense. What they were saying didn’t make sense.

“I was… possessed… By a demon. They made me watch. They… made me watch as they… slaughtered you all.”

No.

No no no no no no no.

No, they were lying. They were lying. 

(but it made so much sense. their sudden change, their bloodthirstiness.)

“And they did it… again and again…”

It felt as though time had stopped. He couldn’t move, couldn’t speak, couldn’t think.

“They would give me… back control… just as I killed someone… ”

Why won’t his mouth move, why can’t he say anything?!

“I can’t… do it again. I can’t. I can’t. I’m so tired Sans. I can’t do this anymore.”

Move!  **Move! MOVE!**

“Hopefully it… will work this time… Then you won’t have to deal with me anymore.”

Frisk slowly tipped their body back.

“I’m sorry Sans.”

They let themself fall.

He darted forward, a strangled yell in his voice.

A snap echoed through the ravine. 

 

* * *

“Hey kiddo. Why aren’t ya with Tori and the others? They’re askin’ after you.” Sans told Frisk, dropping himself next to them on the grass. They shrugged, looking at their hands. He blinked at their nonchalant answer and poked at their stomach. They giggled and swatted his hand away. He grinned.

“You alright?” 

“Kinda? I dunno.” They murmured gently and lay down next to him. They seemed to hesitate for a moment, before shuffling closer to him. 

“You wanna talk about it?” He asked neutrally, lifting a bony hand to pat their head.

“Not… really.” Their voice was muffled from his jacket, as they buried their head inside of the soft material.

“Okay.”

They both lay there like that for a while, neither one of them willing to move from their comfortable positions. The sun was warm and inviting, the grass soft and cool, the company pleasant and familiar. 

“Hey Sans?”

The mentioned skeleton cracked a tired eye open.

“Yeah?”

There was a gentle breeze in the air, and the trees in the vicinity quivered quietly. 

_ I love you, I wish you were my dad, please don’t leave me, I’m sorry. _

“…It’s nothing.”

_ I’m so scared. _

“…Okay.”

Sometimes it’s best to leave some things unspoken.

…

Frisk wished they hadn’t.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> https://finespecimanretrieved.tumblr.com/


	15. Hate

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hahahaha  
> haha  
> ha  
> I'm so sorry  
> I have a good excuse this time though!  
> It was summer holidays, I was in England, my grandfather passed away and I changed to a really demanding school!  
> That and I was at a loss on how to continue.  
> Bluh  
> Anyway, here is the newest chapter and while I can't promise the next one will come out soon, I can say that I will try not to take as long.  
> So.  
> Voila.

He was only going in the same direction, he wasn’t following them. Of course not. Why would he do that? That would have been a stupid idea that would have led to even stupider situations. Like the one he was currently in. Flowey stared nervously at the small unconscious human entangled in his vines. He had acted on auto-pilot when he saw what was happening, his roots and vines snapping desperately out to catch the falling human and cutting the rope that threatened to kill them, before swinging them to safety inside one of the many alcoves of the cliff. He didn’t know why he had rescued them, why his non-existent soul had frozen in terror at the sight of the Chara-imposter plummeting to the depths with a rope strangling their neck. He gingerly cut away the remaining noose, before throwing the frayed rope as far away as possible. Tugging the human closer to him, Flowey began to carefully inspect their fragile body, trying to convince himself that he wasn’t making sure they weren’t hurt. He was just looking for any weapons they might have on them. He was only looking out for himself. Hadn’t he already said that they weren’t Chara? He didn’t care if they were wounded or dead or depressed or trying to kill themselves-

(bloody petals being coughed out of a blistered mouth, lips twitching up into a painful smile forming words over and over, i’m sorry i’m sorry i’m sorry)

He reared back as if he were struck, his vines dropping the imposter he had been cradling moments before. Flowey trembled in fury, terror and desperation. Their unconscious face taunted him, replacing itself with memories that he had forcefully buried long long ago. For a moment, he was back inside his room, whispering goodnight to his already sleeping sibling (but they weren’t sleeping, they weren’t sleeping, yes they are, they’re just sleeping, they’re not dead, they’re not dead, they’re not dead, why aren’t they moving why why move move **_move_** )-

_(“It won’t even hurt, and besides, then we’ll all be free!”)_

_(“Don’t you want to save everyone?”)_

_(“I’ll come back, I promise!”)_

_(“Don’t tell mom and dad.”)_

_(“Promise me Asriel!”)_

_(“Please Asriel.”)_

_(“I trust you Asriel.”)_

_(“I’m sorry Asriel.”)_

Flowey forced a vine around the human’s ( **impostor _chara_ fraud _characharachara_** ) neck, tightening it enough to make it hard for them to breathe. He ignored their pained groan at the sudden pressure, instead watching impassively as they let out a choked gasp and struggled vainly against the harsh grip.

“Isn’t this what you wanted?” He heard himself spit out hatefully, lifting them into the air. “Didn’t you want to die just moments before?”

He watched in scornful glee as the human scrabbled around their neck, their blunt nails trying to tear away the thick vines cutting off their air supply. He shook them harshly and laughed at their flailing limbs, at their horrified face, at the tears of desperation forming in those red red eyes-

He squeezed tighter at the sight of them, rage beginning to replace the dark amusement that had filled him before. How dare they. How dare they steal the face of his beloved sibling? How dare they how _dare they how da **re they how dARE THEY!?**_

“ _-As…riel…_ ” A voice wheezed out of the impostor’s lips and ice coursed through Flowey’s body.

No.

No, they were messing with his mind, they were trying to fool him even further-

No, he must have misheard them, he had to have misheard them, or he was interpreting a gasp for air as something else-

“ _Pl-ea-se, As…riel…_ ”

Flowey flung their breathless body away from his own shaking form, barely noticing the harsh impact of them colliding with the wall. Shrinking away from them, he forced himself to hiss out: “How do you know that name?”

The impostor coughed heavily in response, too busy trying to regain back the air that they had lost while caught in his grasp. He himself was planted as far away as he could get while still remaining visible and in earshot. Something desperate unfurled itself within the empty space where his soul would’ve lay, clawing and tearing its way into emotions he had forced himself to forget long, long ago.

He was terrified of what it meant for him.

“As-Asri-…” They stuttered out weakly, and the dam burst open.

“ ** _Don’t call me that! Don’t you DARE CALL ME THAT!_** ” He roared, as he desperately tried to flood his own inner turmoil with the fury and hatred that had plagued him since he became a flower, forcing his vines to lash out at the cowering human.

“ ** _Who do YOU THINK YOU ARE YOU MISERABLE-!_** ”

“It’s… It’s me, Asriel- It’s Chara.”

“ ** _Is this funny to you? Some sort of sick joke you… you FREAK?!_** ” Dark satisfaction uncurled inside him as he watched them flinch at his words, as though they had heard them before. This was good. This was familiar territory. He knew this. He knew what he had to do. He knew how to handle this.

And then they did something that uprooted everything he had believed in and used to cause as much mayhem as he could.

They started to sing.

It was slightly off-tune and croaky, but Flowey- !

No.

 _Asriel_ could recognize that melody anywhere. And while the music might have been well known amongst monsters, the lyrics were not, and only royalty would recognize the song for what it was.

The Royal Lullaby.

 _Chara’s_ last lullaby.

The song that they had fallen asleep to, never to wake up.

Leaving Asriel alone the next morning with a cold body and the sour smell of death clogging their shared room.

“It’s me Asriel.”

No.

“It’s your best friend.”

“Cha…ra…?”

**_No!_ **

No no n _o nO NO **NO NO NO NO NO-!**_

They’re dead they’re dead they’re dead the _y’re dead they’re **dead dead dead DEAD**_

So why-

Why could he see Chara?

Why could he see them alive?

 

* * *

 

“Are you alright now Undyne?” Papyrus asked gently, carefully untangling himself from the desperate embrace she had caged him in. They must have both looked like a mess, Undyne’s face blotchy and runny with tears, his shirt damp and wrinkled. She stiffened at his soft movement, but eventually loosened her grip around him, bringing up her hands to rub the remaining tears out of her eyes. She swallowed harshly and cleared her throat.

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m… I’m better now. Sorry you had to see that,” she croaked out, slowly gathering herself off of the floor.

“Don’t apologize my friend. Never apologize for needing comfort, especially not with me," he answered back quietly and took her by the shoulders, before leading her to the couch. Grabbing one of the blankets scattered around the house, he wrapped it around her body and brought her a glass of water. She nodded her thanks and tugged the blanket tighter around her, before sipping at her water. For a moment, neither of them spoke, simply allowing each other to collect themselves from what had just happened. Undyne stared absentmindedly into her glass, while Papyrus looked deep in thought. He eventually sighed and looked up at her.

“Undyne, can I… Can you tell me what… what caused this? And what it has to do with my brother?” She bit her lip and tightened her hold on her glass. “Please Undyne?”

“Your… brother and I have a… mutual friend. But something… happened between them. And according to him that friend did something… bad,” she bared her teeth and spat out: “But I know that they would never do what he’s accusing them of! They’re just a- a victim in- in all of _this_! They- they kil- tried to _hurt_ themselves because of it! But your _brother_ refuses to believe me! And I just **know** that he’s gonna do something to them!”

“…” Papyrus remained silent. He knew that she was talking about Frisk, but the fact that she remembered- that his _brother_ remembered- was enough to shock him thoroughly. But what he wanted to know was why Sans hated them so much. Why Undyne was adamant that he was going… to do _something_ to the small child. He knew his brother, he knew that he would never harm anyone-

Unless Papyrus was in danger.

Unless he was brutally killed.

And it suddenly made sense.

Why Sans despised Frisk so much. He knew that he had died at their hands, despite it not actually being them. And he blamed them for it anyway.

Enough for them to hurt themseves. To…

To kill themselves.

He couldn’t stop his bones from trembling.

What had Sans done?

What had _Frisk_ done?

“Un-Undyne… I need you to tell me… How… how did they hurt themselves?” He stuttered out, teeth clacking within his skull. Undyne went white at his question, her nails digging into the blanket she clutched at.

“D-Does it matter-?”

“What did Frisk do Undyne.”

Her one good eye widened considerably and her jaw dropped open, dismay etched into her face.

“What? No,” she whispered, “no, no, no. You… you remember too…?”

He looked away from her.

“Please Undyne. What did-?”

The door slammed open.

They both whipped their heads around at the sudden noise, and froze at the sight of Sans.

Sans who was shaking uncontrollably.

Whose fists were clenched so tight they could hear creaking.

“Undyne,” he rasped out.

“Frisk’s dead.”

His eyes widened when he noticed Papyrus.

They all stared at each other for barely a moment, his words slowly sinking in to their minds.

And then all hell broke loose.

“ ** _What did you DO?!_** ” Undyne howled in rage as she leapt out of her seat and flew at Sans, her sharp fingernails poised to claw at his face. He barely managed to dodge, too focused on his younger brother’s face staring back at him in horror.

“Sans…” He whispered, voice drowned out by Undyne’s screams and sobs.

“ ** _What did you do what did you do what did-!_** ” She shrieked over and over again, her movements growing more and more desperate and wild, before she simply collapsed to the floor, fists pounding the ground below her.

“What have you done, brother?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> follow me on tumblr at finespecimanretrieved.tumblr.com  
> see ya


	16. Interlude: Burn

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So just a (very) short (less than 300 words!) interlude to make up for the huge ass wait last time. I'm already working on the next chapter, but this just popped into my head and I wanted to write it. Yeah, it's kinda shitty, but I wanted to write some kind of (vague) explanation. Also, I plan to finish this story by chapter 30. This was supposed to be a one shot, but it kinda spiraled out of control? Bluh. Anyway, here ya go!

“You shouldn’t be here,” she said gently, “you aren’t quite this far gone yet.” A red ribbon was tangled in her hair.

“But you will be soon. If you don’t find a way to stop.”  He explained, hands fiddling with his hat.

The sound of a pencil scribbling stopped, and he whispered: “Do you know why humans who fall down get some sort of powers? It’s because of the barrier.”

“It’s saturated in such powerful magic that it forces its way into a human body,” they inspected a ballet shoe closely, “and opens up pathways that have been shut since the war.”

“Yours is different though.” She tied a bandana tightly around her head, and sighed out: “It’s tainted.”

He rhythmically scrubbed at a frying pan, before asking: “Do you know how? Can you guess what caused it?”

. . .

“ **We’ll give you a hint:** **_There’s one more lost soul_** _._ ”

. . .

“ ** _Which you somehow awakened._** ”

 

* * *

 

 

“They had been slumbering, stuck to the child who had torn them out of death.”

“And when you fell, your soul resonated with their dead one.”

“There’s a reason Asriel failed.”

“Compatibility matters.”

“And yours just so happened to match theirs.”

“Have you realized it yet?”

“What’s causing the resets?”

“ **How strong do you think two souls with the ability to change time are?** ”

. . .

“ **We’ll give you a hint _._** ”

 

* * *

 

“ **What happens when you douse a flame with gasoline?** ”

. . .

“ **It grows.** ”

. . .

“ **It spreads.** ”

. . .

“ ** _And it becomes uncontrollable._** ”

 

* * *

 

“How do you stop it?”

. . .

“You can let it burn out, scorching everything in its path.”

. . .

“ ** _Or you extinguish it_**.”

 

* * *

 

“Well?”

“What will it be?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> see ya hopefully soon!


	17. Break

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hot diggity shit, am I updating? Well yes, yes I am! I'm actually kinda proud of this chapter? Just cause it's so... Well. I can't spoil it now, can I?  
> TW: Blood, death, grief, you know, the usual.
> 
> Oh! Also, 69th (haha) bookmarker and/or the 200th comment gets to ask me for i dunno a prompt or something for me to write? Just cause I want to reward you guys for being really awesome, and because I'm a child of massive proportions.

Sorrow, frustration, and shame were emotions that Asgore was intimately familiar with, though he had long since managed to weather their heaviness on his soul. 

But something was wrong. 

So so wrong. 

The poorly scabbed wounds of grief had somehow been pried open and were currently festering with thick feelings of failure, anguish and desperation, wounds that had only reopened recently after years and years of them slowly stitching themselves back together. The king could not think of any reason for the sudden resurgence, apart from-

Apart from that bad dream he'd had several days(? weeks?) ago. And the gnawing feeling that he had forgotten something incredibly important returned at full force. Asgore swallowed and tried to scan his memories for something missing, something that he had accidently overlooked in his haste to order those fences to be… built…

Why had he felt so desperate to build to fences for ledges that had existed for years? There had been ledges, cliffs, bridges that had never needed any type of railing before, but now he suddenly needed to rectify it? 

What had he dreamt of?

What had he seen?

_ What had he seen? _

And all of a sudden, his vision filled with red. 

A shade of red that he saw every single time a human fell down. 

A shade of red that had dribbled out of Chara’s mouth so long ago. 

The shade of red that had coated the rocks surrounding a small broken body bathed in the light of the setting sun.

Somewhere in his head, a barrier shattered.

And the memories flooded his mind, filling in gaps that he previously had not known existed, slotting in a lifetime he had experienced and forgotten. The barrier had been opened, monsters had been freed from their forced imprisonment and it had all been thanks to-!

**Oh no.**

**Oh** **_God_ ** **.**

A strangled sound escaped his lips, as the image that had haunted his dream slowly sharpened and became clear, forcing him to recognize the child lying dead on the floor. 

“ _ Oh Frisk…” _

Tears leaked out of his eyes and he sluggishly collapsed to his knees.

“ _ Oh Frisk, Frisk, why? _ ”

His memories showed him that he had only met them for a short amount of time, but something inside him screamed that he had known them for far far longer than that. And he wondered how many lifetimes he had forgotten, how many times his people had been freed, how many lifetimes he had let  _ Frisk _ down and been forced to watch them stumble purposefully over the edge.

Dear God, he had never asked them what had brought them to the Underground, and a part of him knew that it had been nothing good, nothing safe, nothing a small child, a young, innocent child, should be burdened with. 

His mind swirled with questions that he wondered if he would ever get an answer to, what had drove them to that point, why had they- they killed themself in such a gruesome and horrible manner, had they done it before, how many times,  _ how many times _ ,  **_how many_ ** -?!

Could he even help them anymore?

…

Did they even want to be helped?

“King Asgore!” A voice yelled, and all the memories and thoughts and questions were blown away and forced into a box. He could mourn later. He now had a kingdom to lead, a kingdom that would need him  _ (that he needed) _ more than ever. He turned to look at the young guard who had called for him and watched in confusion at his heaving chest and trembling form.

“Is everything alright? Has something happened?” (Is Frisk here? Has something happened to Frisk?) 

“My Lord, King Asgore… There’s been a disturbance in the town of Snowdin. Residents reported a large influx of volatile magic coming from one of the neighbours’.” The guard explained, still shaking. Asgore furrowed his brow, Snowdin? Wasn’t that where Sans and Papyrus-?

He inhaled sharply.

_ Frisk. _

“Get Undyne to me immediately, I need to discuss something urgent with her. Once she had been given her orders, I want you and the rest of the guards to investigate as soon as possible. Do you understand?” He barked out, whirling around to head to a meeting room, cape fluttering behind him.

“...But… sir…” The guard stuttered out, and Asgore froze, before turning back to face the monster menacingly.

“Is there something wrong?” 

“Sir… the magic we detected…”

“Get out with it!”

“It’s Captain Undyne’s… sir… we think she may be battling a human.” 

He couldn’t breathe.

For a moment, everything was quiet.

“...King Asgore…?”

And Asgore bolted. 

He had to.

He had to get there in time.

He would  _ not _ fail Frisk again.

Not this time.

(He was too late.)

(He was always came too too late.)

 

* * *

The only thing he could hear was screaming. 

Constant.

Relentless.

**_Furious_ ** .

The sound filled their house and echoed through his bones, and all Sans could do was watch the struggling and still-screaming form of Undyne, who only by virtue of Papyrus holding her back hadn’t torn him into shreds yet, with a numb sort of apathy. Magic rolled off of Undyne in waves, tearing at clothes and furniture, the grief and hatred and rage practically tangible in the air. His brother’s words barely registered in his mind. All he could do was listen and watch as Papyrus tried to console his best friend to the best of his ability. 

But how could he comfort a mother who had just lost her child  _ again _ ?

How could he soothe the uncontrollable grief of a parent?

People, monsters, everyone had always thought that Toriel was the most motherly to the… to the child. That she was the only one deserving of the title ‘Mom’.

And while she was to an extent, she had never been able to fully love the child as her own. She had lost too many for that. It had been more of a… distant grand-motherly affection, similar to how Asgore had been more of a grandfather. 

But Undyne? While she hadn’t been obvious mother material, she had tried under the guise of being a best friend. She herself hadn’t known how much she had loved that human child. It had run deeper so much deeper than simply friendly affection. 

Undyne loved passionately, wildly, and so so deeply. She was the one who taught the child how to defend themself, how to cook (admittedly pretty shitty food), had carried them on her back, had scolded them, hugged them, protected them, loved them,  _ mourned for them _ -

She had only recently understood the extent to which she truly adored the child- 

_ Her _ child. 

And once again they had been torn away from her,  _ before she could even see their face.  _

Soon enough, the screaming became hoarse and choked, slowly being replaced with desperate sobs and quiet wailing. Her desperate writhing to escape out of Papyrus’s grip became weaker and weaker, until she slumped over and just...

**_Wept_ ** . 

But he still couldn’t bring himself to move a damn inch. Couldn’t force himself to do anything but watch. 

Because in the end, that was all he could ever do. All he ever seemed to do, no matter what he told himself. It didn’t matter what path the kid took, cause at the end of the day, he did absolute shit. All he did was watch. And he let horrifying things happen, just because he couldn’t be bothered to involve himself. 

Even if it meant watching people he  _ loved _ die over and over again.

And suddenly Papyrus was in front of him, bony hands clenched around his sweatshirt, lifting him up from the floor in a movement that could only be considered… violent. Angry. 

His eyes blazed with complete and utter fury.

Sans had never, in all years and resets, ever seen his brother like this. 

“What did you do Sans. What did you do to Frisk.”

And for the second time that day, Sans’ world was shattered. 

Because-

Because in that moment, Sans knew.

Papyrus,  _ his baby brother _ , knew.

He knew  **_everything_ ** .

.

.

.

**_Sans felt his sins crawling down his back._ **

**_._ **

**_._ **

**_._ **

The door blew off its hinges.

And there, in all of his royal glory, stood the King.

King Asgore stood like a wrathful God stood at the entrance to Sans’s house with his weapon in hand, ready to impale anyone in his way.

“Where are they.” He asked quietly, his voice filling the room. 

Dread filled Sans.

“Where’s Frisk.”

And Undyne began to scream again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> booyah.  
> have a cliff hanger  
> I'll probably update sooner, cause I really wanna get on top of this. Like, I'm the one writing the story, and even I can't take the suspense.  
> Please leave a comment on your way out if you liked it! Or didn't? I dunno.


	18. Gravity

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you all had good holidays and a happy New Year! I'm sorry it's been a while so have a longer chapter! Also I'm sorry if the characters seem strange or the writing a bit off, it's been a while!
> 
> TW: The usual.

Alphys knew she had a lot of flaws.

( _Anxious, shy, coward, liar, murde **rer**_ **_murderer muRDERER_** -)

But she prided herself on being observant. She prided herself on being able to notice the small details that most people would overlook.

Undyne had come to visit her several days ago completely distraught, with a bruise on her face and curses on her lips, and Sans had come into the lab a few days later with a cracked skull and a sour attitude.

She had an idea that it was related.

And that there was something seriously, seriously wrong.

She didn’t know if the heavy feeling in her chest had something to do with the two of them… or if it was something… bigger. Whatever it was, something screamed at her that it wasn’t anything good.

Undyne found Sans annoying, but she had never disliked him, let alone hated him. His lazy, unconcerned attitude infuriated her, yet there had been a reluctant mutual respect. Undyne was a good friend of his brother and made him happy, and Sans was appointed the Royal Judge, a position even the strongest monsters found difficult to perform. Strength was only one aspect of the job, and there were plenty of strong monsters in the Underground.

It was the Judgement that made many unviable for the job.

The Royal Judge didn’t put monsters on trial. There was no need. The Underground had little to no crime, and even then it only ranged from petty theft to drunken brawls.

No.

The Royal Judge was for humans.

And over the years, Alphys realized what the Royal Judge was actually a synonym for. Being a scientist meant that she was to question everything and anything that happened or would happen, whether it was theory, natural sciences or society.

(She had stopped picking at the can of worms that was morals a long, long time ago. She had made terrible mistakes, and now she was paying for them.)

There would be no fair trial for a human.

They would always be declared guilty.

And the penalty?

Well.

What else would it be other than death?

The Royal Judge.

No, they would judge nothing. They were nothing more than the last frontier against a wayward human.

The Royal Judge was the Royal Executioner.

And Sans had accepted the job. Sure, there was barely anything he would have to do unless there was an actual human in the Underground (which actually, sounded like the reason he accepted it), even just the thought of declaring an innocent person guilty because of crimes they probably weren’t alive to witness made her feel sick.

It just didn’t sit right with her. It scared her.

But the fact that Sans didn’t mind terrified her more than she was willing to admit.

She _knew_ Sans. They had practically grown up together, had studied together, had worked together. He wasn’t malicious or cruel, like most of the Judges had been.  He was detached from everything but his brother, his inability to give a shit leaving him to drift aimlessly through life. He was never interested in the humans or even breaking the barrier, instead seeming to be content with just following Papyrus’s lead.

So why had he accepted the job when Asgore had offered it less than a week ago? What had led him to become such a symbol of death?

Whatever the reason, Alphys wasn’t sure she wanted to know.

Maybe some questions were better left alone.

And then a machine started to beep, and she was dragged away from her thoughts, instead being left to puzzle over the sudden increase of magical activity in Snowdin.

The sound of the lab doors opening went unnoticed.

She was too engrossed to hear the ‘ding’ of the elevator opening.

 

* * *

 

Sans stared at the snapped end of the rope he had pulled up so desperately from the edge of the bridge, trembling at the broken rope and the other end that was nowhere to be seen.

The other end.

With Frisk’s tiny body (oh God, they were just a child, just a small child who didn’t- _couldn’t_ know better) hanging off it.

Their small childish frame that had just willingly jumped off a bridge with a rope hanging around their neck.

God.

And for what?

For what?

He could only look at the frayed end in cradled in his grasp, the end that had held, and lost, the life of Frisk.

“Reset.” He whispered, the words lost in the quiet fog setting over the area and the snow that was starting to float down.

“ _Reset_.” He said more forcefully, hands shaking as they gripped onto the rope tighter, as nothing happened. He just had to wait. He just had to wait-

It would reset.

It would reset, and they would be fine, and he could go back to not knowing, because it was obviously all a lie, there was no demon, did they think he was an idiot, they had done this, they had done this, this was all their fault all their fault all their-

“ ** _Reset! Fuck- Reset already! You’ve made your point, you-!_** ” He screamed into the nothingness and tearing the rope he had held so preciously in his hands only moments before.

reset, reset, reset, _reset, reset, rese **t, reset RESET!**_

The mantra echoed in his head over and over again, and he couldn’t help but laugh hysterically into the fog.

“So what, you won’t reset when I actually want you to, but you’ll do it when I don’t?! What the fuck kinda logic is that?! What… what the fuck?!

“Do it! Do it you fucking coward, reset, I know you want to! How else are you gonna be a piece of shit to all of us?”

He waited with clenched teeth, snarling threats and insults into the drop below.

The rope in his hands seemed to taunt him.

Fury made way to desperation, his poisonous words slowly becoming softer and pleading, begging for them to just come back, to turn back the time, they could reset he didn’t even care about it anymore-!

Soon his voice grew hoarse and his shouts turned into whispers again, until all he could do was stare into the gaping abyss below him in silence.

He swallowed and tried to comfort himself with what he had heard before.

If what Undyne and Asgore had said was true, if they had done this before, then Frisk could come back again.

They would.

There was no way that this was the last reset.

Why would it stop now?

There was no reason for it to.

Frisk would come back.

They would be fine.

They would be fine.

. . .

He… he had to go.

Had to tell Undyne.

She… she would know what to do.

She had to know what to do.

Frisk would come back.

They would come back.

. . .

 they would…

. . .

would they?

. . .

His only answer was the rope.

 

* * *

 

It was quiet inside their head. It was quiet from all the thoughts that were usually clawing at their mind, quiet from all of the horror outside, quiet from the monsters.

Quiet from Chara.

They had shut themself off after fainting in the snow. Had let Chara take over their body; let them do whatever it was they wanted to do.

Frisk just couldn’t care anymore.

Not when they were wrapped in this cocoon of nothing, of gentle silence and soothing warmth. When everything from outside was blocked off, when there was nothing for them to worry about, when they were so, so tired.

Who cared if Chara slaughtered all of the monsters again? Everything would just reset anyway, and it wasn’t as though Sans could hate them _more_. And even if he did… even if he killed them again and again like he did the first time they had gained control after the Genocide Runs… it wouldn’t change a thing, would it? If anything the pain would be a welcome respite.

But in the end, Frisk would still be alone.

They loved Chara so much, but a part of them resented them. Hated them for being able to constantly hide away like this, to leave all the pain and suffering to Frisk, for… for causing this whole mess.

Would Sans still love them if Chara hadn’t killed all of them?

Would they have someone- anyone- on their side? Apart from Chara? Someone who could actually hug them, comfort them, cheer them on instead of suggesting genocide as a solution?

Frisk loved Chara.

But they hated them so so much.

Because in the end, they got to walk free from it.

Got to walk away from slaughtering everyone Frisk had known and loved (even if it was so long ago).

And instead, instead, Frisk was forced to carry the blame. Forced to bow under the knowledge that Sans would hate them for the rest of their days for a crime they had never committed.

(but hadn’t they? they had let chara take over, let chara cause all of that destruction. they had let it happen.)

They loved them.

They hated them.

Chara loved Chara.

Frisk hated Frisk.

In the end, they didn’t know who they were talking about.

But it didn’t matter.

Nothing mattered.

Only the sweet oblivion that they were swaddled in, that dampened everything from outside and made it bearable, for just… just a bit.

Just a little longer.

(Frisk loved Chara.

Frisk hated Frisk.)

And a voice whispered:

“You shouldn’t be here.”

 

* * *

 

The situation would have been hilarious in any other context. Four monsters facing off each other, one wailing for a child cruelly torn from her over and over, one  clutching their grieving friend with thoughts of betrayal and suspicion, one hunched over in guilt, so much guilt, unable to look anyone in the eye, and one standing strong, weapon in hand and demanding answers that none of them had.

Well.

Apart from one.

“You want to tell him Sans or should I?” Papyrus asked quietly, and Sans turned his head to him at the emotionless tone of his brother. His brother who should be so full of life and joy.

His brother who was staring at him with such an empty eyes that his soul shuddered at the sight.

Desperation overcame him.

“Pap, Papyrus, please, it’s not what you think-!” Undyne scoffed between sobs, raising her head to look at him with a hatred he had only ever seen on his own face. Her makeup was smeared, mascara running like permanent tears down her face, and she looked _dangerous_.

Asgore stared at Sans with an unreadable expression, trident held tightly in his paw.

“If I don’t hear an explanation in the next five minutes,” he said softly, “I will have you all arrested and tried.”

That brought all of them out of whatever feud they had going on, and instead forced them to turn and look at him in shock and horror.

“W-What? Asgore-?” Undyne whispered, before being cut off by a glare.

“No. I want answers. Now. That is an order Captain Undyne, Royal Judge Sans. I am tiring of whatever quarrel you currently have going on. Where is Frisk. I will not ask again.”

“…How much do you remember?” Papyrus asked, and the King turned to look at him.

“All of it. And you, Sentry Guard Papyrus?”

He lowered his head.

“Not all of it. But enough. I… know _who_ they are. But not what’s happened recently. I only remember… Alphys crying,” he explained, and Asgore nodded, before turning to the other two.

“I remembered a week or so ago… But _he,_ can answer all of your questions my King,” Undyne spat out as she pointed at Sans, who shrunk into himself. “Well?! Why don’t you tell him how you **_murdered_** Fri-!”

“ ** _They hung themself! They jumped off the fucking bridge and hung themself Undyne!_** You want proof?! Go to it! You’ll see that fucking rope they used!” He bellowed, magic surrounding his body.

“You’re a liar! _A liar!_ ”

“Really?! I thought they had killed themself?! I thought they had swallowed a fuck-ton of pills and jumped off the fucking cliff above ground!”

Undyne screamed and hurled herself towards him, but froze when a large paw grabbed her shoulder and held her back.

All of a sudden, a weight they had never felt before slammed down into them, as the heavy and _furiousgrievingdisbelieving_ magic of their King filled the room and forcibly held all of them down.

“Where?” He snarled, the pressure gradually increasing. “ ** _Where?! Where did they do this Sans?!_** ”

“T-Towards the Ruins!” He gasped, and just as quickly as it came, the weight disappeared. But the King wasn’t done yet. He yanked Sans close.

“If I find any sign of a battle, I will execute you myself,” he whispered gently, “do I make myself clear?”

The skeleton nodded, eye sockets wide and body trembling.

And Asgore was gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now before anyone yells at me for Asgore being out of character, I would like to remind them that the man declared war and killed 8 children in response to the death of his children. If he thought the child he had come to see as his own was in danger, I doubt he would be very kind and patient.


	19. Conscious

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All I have to say is IB is an utter bitch, and never take Theatre. It's not theatre it's just writing essays up to 20 pages long on theatre.
> 
> I'm currently on holiday but it sure doesn't feel like it. I have 2h worth of history homework that's really handwavy on what to do, I need to write a 20 page thing for theatre, and work on and write my math IA (basically an essay set out to torture you). Taking into consideration that I'm in England to look at universities means I have even less time. Ha ha ha, please, death.  
> Now I know I usually give you guys a little bit more, but this took ages to churn out because I've been so busy and then this idea came and clonged me on the head.  
> I also hate myself and would prefer giving you guys a short chapter than actually writing my stuff, so here you go.

The True Lab was just as decrepit as it always was, the scent of dust and mould hanging thickly in the air. The lights barely flickered, illuminating the surroundings for less than a second, before plunging back into eerie grey darkness. It wasn’t pitch black, just uncomfortably dark and foggy, and Chara grimaced. They made their way past the vending machine and up to the dormitories, ignoring the screens plastered against the walls. Chara and Frisk had read them so many times that they practically knew them by heart. No, they weren’t here to read Dr. Alphys’ research. Rather, they were going to hide here until they could come up with their next plan of action while they waited for Flowey to return with information.

And where better to hide than in the lab no-one but Alphys knew about? It wasn’t as though she would find them. Chara had been here enough times to know where the Amalgamations were, and where they could hide away from both them and the scientist. It was the perfect hiding spot for them to just sit down and think, while Flowey spied on the monsters.

Well. There was one specific monster Chara was increasingly interested in. After all, who wouldn’t want to know about someone’s reaction to their ‘death’? They couldn’t help but grin in delight at how everything worked out. They had not expected Flowey to turn up and save them while they were falling, nor had they expected him to actually agree to helping them. This made it so much easier to convince Sans that they really were dead, since a reset would have just made the bastard deny anything.

But this?

Oh, this was glorious.

Finally. Finally, Chara would get revenge for everything the monsters had forced them and sweet Frisk to go through.

Poor, gentle Frisk, who did not deserve to go through everything they had been through, suffering over and over again, to be refused a chance of happiness every single ending.

After all of this, they would make sure Frisk would be safe and happy. They could both go off somewhere to the less explored parts of the Underground and live out the rest of their days in peace. Or, if they found a way to stop the resets, they could both just… rest permanently. The depression deep inside their bones might have been staved off by their new found energy and passion, but Chara knew that once it was all over, they would be back to the never-ending lethargy and emptiness. And if Chara had their way, Frisk would never have to go through that again, no matter what.

They had made sure to block off the outside world from Frisk, but so far they had been quiet. While it concerned Chara (and made them feel slightly lonely with no-one to talk to), they knew it was for the best. Frisk deserved to rest for a while, without having to worry about what was happening outside and how it would affect both of them.

“…Chara?” A small voice asked timidly, and they whirled around, a small knife clutched into their hand and lifted to attack any intruder.

“Oh. It’s you Asriel.” Flowey beamed at their response, looking at them as though they had hung the stars and moon. Chara shuffled uncomfortably at his look. They felt slightly guilty for manipulating their not-brother, but sacrifices had to be made. And Flowey hadn’t been Asriel, the Asriel that they had known and loved so long ago, for a long, long time.

No. No, that Asriel was gone.

Just as he had accused Chara of being an impostor barely a few hours back, they knew who the real impostor was. This… thing… was not their brother.

Chara cleared their throat.

“So? Did… did you find anything?” They asked and hid a grimace at Flowey’s monstrous grin.

“Oh boy did I! Chara, you won’t believe what’s going on up there, gosh, it’s absolutely beautiful!” He bounced up and down, petals swaying in glee. They blinked at his elated voice, dark hope and excitement roiling in their chest. They couldn’t stop themself from grinning in anticipation.

“Yeah? What is it?” They questioned expectantly, leaning forward ever so slightly in eagerness. If the news was something that had Flowey buzzing with dark joy, then it had to be something incredible.

“Oh Chara, you won’t… you won’t believe it! It’s absolute _mayhem_! You have that sack of shit and his dumb brother arguing with each other, that crazy captain of the guard going completely _insane_ , she tried to _kill_ the sack of bones, and the most glorious of all, you have _Asgore_ himself there! King Asgore, threatening them all with his trident and execution!”

They froze.

“And they all think I’m dead…?”

“Yes, they wouldn’t stop screaming at-!”

They collapsed to the floor, and covered their face in their hands.

“…C-Chara?” He inched closer to his sibling; the joy drained out and replaced with worry.

“Never… Never had I thought… I would turn out like this…” They mumbled, body visibly shaking. “Never… I…” They looked up, and Flowey froze at their smile, something so dark and twisted that every fibre in his body screamed at him to run, run, run. Laughter bubbled up from the facsimile that was their smile, delighted and childish, echoing throughout the dormitory.

“Oh brother mine, _Asriel_ , you’ve given me the best news I’ve heard in a **_very long time_** ,” they gasped out between giggles, reaching out with one had to stroke Flowey’s head. He flinched at the contact, but leaned into it, gradually relaxing.

But just as quickly as it came, the laughter disappeared.

“Hang on,” they whispered, halting their movements, “why would they mourn for me if they didn’t know who Frisk was?”

Flowey fidgeted.

“Well, um, they did seem to know F-Frisk. The king yelled out for you, as Frisk, demanded to know where you were and they all said that… you had done it before? That you’d… killed yourself before. They said something about… remembering…” He answered hesitantly.

“…They knew?” Chara murmured, and Flowey immediately distanced himself, lest he be caught up in the approaching explosion. “They remembered…?”

And once again, the monsters had let them suffer.

Had let _Frisk_ suffer.

Chara began to tremble. 

“How dare they,” they hissed, “how **_dare_** they.”

They had _known. They knew._ Knew that Frisk had killed themself _**twice**_ yet still couldn’t give a shit about them.

“Tell me Asriel, how did they react to the news of my ‘death’?”

Flowey quivered.

“They were… all distraught… Sans… kept waiting for a reset…”

 “A reset…? Wasn’t it him who said that resetting would never fix the destruction that I’ve caused…?” They whispered, hands still shaking in rage.

“What else?” They demanded.

“W-Well as I said before… the Captain wouldn’t stop screaming and tried to attack the trash bag, the tall idiot couldn’t even look at him and the king threatened to execute Sans if he found any type of battle at the scene of your… death, and then he went off to look at the place where you died…”

And through the red haze of hatred and fury, an idea began to form.

Chara smiled and slowly the cold glee returned.

“Tell me Asriel, how would you like to stage a battle scene? I can’t go there myself obviously since I don’t have the speed to get there, but you… _you_ could do it. How about it? I’ve always wanted to see an execu-!”

_(I think you’ve done enough Chara.)_

And the world jolted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If I have to suffer, so do you.
> 
> Okay that's my only April Fools, the next chapter should be coming out... ~soon~.  
> 'Soon' is an indeterminate amount of time here buds.  
> But I haven't abandoned this. Not yet. The IB hasn't kicked me down too far.


	20. Renew

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hoo this is a doozy. I hope it isn't too bad, but I've been splitting my time between writing this, another story, a prequel to Fade Away, and studying for finals. So uhhh the next chapter might take a while to come out. 
> 
> In other news however, I was talking to the awesome licoricebrightwater about Frisk and Undyne's relationship, and I hope to come out with a type of 'prequel' to the events of Fade Away soon! I already have 2'500 words done and it'll hopefully show how Momdyne came to be. Because I realised that it was kinda sudden and probably should have been detailed or hinted at a bit better during this. 
> 
> Oh, one more thing! If you have any questions/theories/general ideas you want to talk about, please don't hesitate to message me on discord! It's FineSpecimanRetrieved#6024 if you want to friend me, and if enough people contact me, I'll make a group chat or something. 
> 
> Anyway, sorry to clog this up with random stuff, and I'll let you get on to the story!
> 
> TW: The usual.

As jumbled words echoed after you, for the first time in a long while your mind felt… clear. Awake. It was like someone had pulled back a curtain and forced bright light into your eyes to wake you up. The thick nothingness you had been blanketed with by Chara, that you had _let_ yourself be shrouded in, seemed to have been ripped away, and information flooded your newly awakened mind. Pictures and memories, emotions and pain, everything that had happened to your body while you hid yourself away forced its way into your knowledge. You could see Sans’ hatred, watched his face crumble in confusion, heard him scream your name as you fell. You saw Flowey’s hope, felt the vines wrap around your throat, watched him smile when he saw you. And you could feel Chara’s desperate bitterness, their disgusted fury, their burning glee at every misfortune that happened. You heard them speak, listened to them give orders to Flowey, felt the surge of righteous spite as their intentions coursed through your mind.

It burned, felt poisonous and diseased, sickly and cloying, choking you until you couldn’t breathe. This, you thought, this was hatred. Scorched, meaningless and so very rotten.

This… _mission_ would lead to nothing more than more pain, more suffering, more self-destruction. You loved Chara, but this… this would end in disaster. Enough was enough. And even with their churning anger at the monsters, at themself, at the **world** , flowing through your veins, you knew you had to stop this. All of it. For good.

( _will **you** burn next to them frisk? or will you extinguish the flames before it **burns everything**?)_

_(…)_

_(you better make your decision soon)_

_(…)_

( _tick tock frisk. time is running out.)_

This had gone on long enough. No more running.

It was time you stopped the resets. Forever.

And you knew exactly how.

Determination flooded your Soul as you clawed your way back into control. Your Determination had never really left you, even as desolation brought you to the brink each time. Because even as you were swallowed up by despair, you had still been determined to stop the resets. It was a vital aspect of your Soul. Of Chara’s Soul.

“I think you’ve done enough Chara.”

And together it was too strong.

It made sense now. Everything made sense. You understood what you needed to do.

“Ch-Chara?” A voice broke out into the din of the lab.

You couldn’t help but flash a smile at Flowey.

“Ignore what I just said Flo- Asriel. I have a better idea. One that’ll free us all.”

He stared at you, confusion clear on his small face, before slowly narrowing his eyes and sneering at you.

“You’re not Chara, are you. You’re the… other one,” he hissed out, petals puffing out aggressively. You swallowed, but kept the smile. You could convince Flowey, you could do this, you could _fix everything_!

“Yeah, but listen, I have a plan-!”

“Where’s Chara? What did you do?!” Vines rose from the ground and pointed at you threateningly, tendrils steadily approaching closer and closer.

“I- Chara’s sleeping right now! They were exhausted so I took over and I now know how to stop the resets! Just- Please listen!” Your smiled dropped as you steadily grew more desperate and less patient. All you had to do was _one_ thing before you could reset for the last time and-!

“I don’t take orders from _you_ , impostor! Bring Chara back now or-!”

“Or what!? You’ll kill me? Been there, done that, and besides, you’d be killing Chara alongside me, so please- why won’t you li-!”

“-I’ll do what they asked me to and make sure they all die!”

You froze. As you did so, a vine shot out of the ground and grasped your arm, holding you still, while another steadily crept around your torso.

“You… _care,_ ” he spat out, “about those… _things_ for some reason. If you don’t bring back Chara, then… I’ll do exactly what they asked me to do before you took over them. I’ll make it look like a battle took place in Snowdin and then that idiot… _king_ will execute all of them!” He bared his teeth at you, and the vines around your body constricted. They were painfully tight, harsh enough to bruise, but loose enough to breathe with only a little bit of difficulty. But all you could think of was your next move. There wasn’t a lot you could do. You could try to convince Flowey to listen to you, to go along with your plan for only 15 minutes longer.

Or you could let him go and hope that you would reach the Determination Extractor and figure out how it worked before he could trick Asgore into killing everybody.

…

Or…

You could reset one final time and pray that Alphys didn’t remember, that she would value freedom over your life.

That maybe, just maybe, something would go right for once.

Giving as deep of a breath as you could with Flowey’s vines gripping your body, you let your Determination shine through, and you stared at him with resolve.

“I’m afraid not Flowey. And I’m afraid I’m going have to reset everything. But… I think this time will be the last,” you replied, slowly grasping at the streams of time. It had been a long time since you last had reset on purpose, since the last time you had to yank and unravel the knots of the timeline, and you almost had to remind yourself how to do it. But there it was, an unconscious feeling somewhere deep inside you, already charged up for a new beginning. Flowey was staring at you in confusion, fear and feral anger, body poised to attack and you **_pulled_**.

You watched as what little colour the lab had drained away, as Flowey’s dive towards you slowly reversed while time itself spun backwards and reality faded away. There was a tug inside you and you could feel yourself being grasped, before being thrown back to where everything began.

And there you were. Lying in a patch of bright yellow flowers, the sun flooding through hole that had caused this whole mess, and Chara screaming at you in your mind.

You laughed.

This was it.

The last reset.

You just _knew_ it.

 

* * *

 

Undyne watched her King make his way outside, how he shoved through the small crowd of onlookers that had gathered around the smashed door, and for a moment she wondered how things had managed to get so out of control. How things had managed to spiral past the point of no return in such a short amount of time.

But now wasn’t the time to dwell on it. No, she had to follow Asgore, see for herself if Sans was lying, if…

Undyne gave a shuddering breath and forced herself to stand up, to shake of the last dregs of Asgore’s oppressive magic, to _walk_.

She stumbled forward, ‘accidentally’ kicking Sans in the face from his position on the ground and limped as quickly as she could after Asgore. She knew she looked like a mess, even without a mirror, but she didn’t care what the other monsters would say when they saw her running makeup and smudged lipstick. None of that mattered. She was a woman on a mission, and she always completed her missions.

(you failed them, you failed frisk, you left them, you left them, you left them-)

Papyrus yelped after her, both in protest at her treatment of his brother and also her destination, pleaded for her to stop, if she really wanted to see this, but she ignored him, forcing her weak legs to move as fast as they could. It didn’t matter if she wanted to see this or not. She had to. She had to see-

She was still too slow. Asgore was already far ahead from her, and she was steadily lagging behind. She couldn’t wait, she wouldn’t wait, she needed to find out what happened. Had to find out what happened to Frisk. She knew she wasn’t thinking clearly, but all she could hear was Frisk, Frisk, Frisk. Their laughter, their gentle voice, their screams and cries echoing across the flowers-

She channelled her magic and shoved it down her legs and into her muscles, manipulating it to increase her speed and shake away the lingering heaviness of the King’s own magic, and she _moved_. Sparks of pain fluttered along her calves as her magic forced her muscles to work past their capability and Gerson’s warnings whispered in her mind. But she couldn’t bring herself to care.

_(‘If you want to cripple yourself, then go right ahead wahaha. But if you want to keep your limbs and magic pathways intact then you won’t be an absolute idiot and use magic to augment your muscles. I can’t tell you how many times some whippersnapper tried to do the same thing during the war-!’ He had cut off then, his jolliness slowly replaced with something much more sombre. ‘Don’t do it Undyne. It’s not worth it. Trust me.’)_

She didn’t care if she overloaded her legs with magic, if the strain of maintaining a speed she was unused to tore apart her muscles, if the consequences of doing something like this steadily worsened every second she continued doing it. It didn’t matter. All that mattered was Frisk. She would find them.

A sharp jab lanced up her legs and she grunted, but forced herself to press on, ignored the feeling of her muscles being ripped apart, because Frisk had gone through so much worse, had to suffer through so much all by themself, without anyone ever remembering. Not this time though.

Undyne refused to forget.

Not now, not ever.

_(‘I’ll protect you punk! No matter what! Cause that’s what the heroine does, yeah?’ She had lifted them up, tossed them in the air, spun them around, their giggles chiming through the air like bells. She felt so warm, so happy, couldn’t help but think that this was home- static, static, static- how had she forgotten, **how could she have forgotten** -?)_

She had failed them enough times. She wouldn’t this time-!

She crashed into the large frame of Asgore. He didn’t even look at her. Stumbling backwards, she cut off the flow of magic in her legs and gritted her teeth to stop herself from screaming. And then she saw where she was.

The bridge.

She knew Asgore had built them to be sturdier, but the large metal fence seemed slightly overkill.

_(a loud thump, bones breaking, splintering, the wet slap of flesh on rocks-)_

She stared up at him, his stiff frame sheltering her view once more. No, she wouldn’t let this happen again. She had to see for herself, had to-

He didn’t stop her when she moved around him, didn’t make a sound.

And she knew why.

She had cried so much today already, it was no wonder that even as her eyes stung, no tears came out. A small desperate part of her had prayed that Sans was wrong, the he was lying, had even vaguely hoped that he had done something, just so she could take out all her anger on him. But life was rarely that straightforward.

Or maybe it was, with Frisk. Maybe it was simple with them, to always know what had happened to them.

A small part of her had hoped that Sans was wrong, but the larger part had expected the rope. Once was a fluke, twice a coincidence, but three times was a trend.

Her legs collapsed beneath her, both the shock and the pain in her legs bringing her down. She heard Asgore move forward slightly, place a large hand on her head, for a just a moment, before he moved towards the bridge.

She didn’t stop him. Couldn’t stop him. Her body was shaking, and she wasn’t sure if it was the cold or the grief. She didn’t care either way.

She couldn’t make a sound.

Not even as the King gently pulled up the rope, as he froze when he noticed something, when she realised that the part of the rope with Frisk tied to it had snapped off.

There would be no body to recover.

Not this time.

She faintly heard the sound of footsteps limping closer, the creak of bones, a gasp of shock and confusion.

“Oh no,” Papyrus whispered, “oh no…”

Sans was quiet.

For a moment, everything paused. Asgore standing by the bridge, cradling a length of rope as though it were the child that should have been there, Undyne sitting in the snow, eyes blank and defeated, Papyrus close to her, hesitating to put his hand on her shoulder, but his face screwed up in grief, and Sans, standing a bit away, eye sockets wide and desperate.

And then Asgore moved. Dropping the length of rope into Undyne’s lap, he made his way straight over to Sans.

“You did this,” he growled out, hand wrapping around his neck while the other materialised his spear. The skeleton wheezed, and Papyrus leapt up, begging the King not to do this, that it wasn’t his brother’s fault-!

She heard Sans scream something about resets, how everything would fix itself, listened to Asgore roar how it hadn’t happened yet, how death isn’t that reversible.

They were arguing in the distance, and Undyne didn’t care. What… kind of monster was she, to lose this child not once, not twice, but three times. How could she have hesitated? How could she have not rushed immediately to them, picked them up, ran far, far away, shield them from everything and anything?

How many times could they all fail one person?

How many times could she fail one person?

And slowly, the world began to fall apart.

Sans slowly began to laugh, triumphant and hysterical, as the King and his brother yelled over each other. She slowly turned her head to look at them.

She tightened her hands around the rope.

It was funny, how quickly things could spiral out of control.

A tragedy is created when misfortune befalls the hero, not because of depravity or cruelty, but because of a mistake or a misunderstanding. A tragic hero is a hero who is the cause of a tragedy.

Undyne had read that from one of the books Alphys had showed her.

It had stuck with her for some reason.

And as Asgore shoved his trident inside Sans’ laughing body while Papyrus screamed for his brother, as the world began to erase itself and the rope in her hands slowly dissolved, she couldn’t help but wonder who the tragic hero was of this story.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well there we go! Keep an eye out for the Fade Away prequel if you're interested! Also, I hope to finish Fade Away soon (there should only be like, 3 more chapters), since I want to focus on school and stuff for 12th grade. Not to say I won't write, but I've already plagued you guys with a shoddy update schedule, and don't really want to make it worse next school year. I'll probably go over it, fix some plot holes and stuff, but Fade Away will (hopefully) be finished during the Summer (June to August). See you next time!


	21. Interlude: Remember

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Longer chapter, but it's the last interlude before things start to really heat up! This one is a bit different than usual, since I get to show the perspective of one character who has largely only been mentioned, but I'm doing my usual perspective hopping. Most of them aren't chronological, but I figured it was high time to see the thought of some others. Also! I'm finally finished with exams, so I should be able to finish off the last few chapters before or during the summer break!
> 
> One more thing!!!!! I went back and edited the first 10 chapters, changing quite a few things around, so if you haven't seen the edits yet, please check them out! This story also now has a channel on a Discord server along with several other incredibly talented Undertale writers, so if you're interested, check this link out! <https://discord.gg/jBB4FaT>
> 
> TW: The usual, mentions of self-harm, child death, pretty standard stuff.

Sans woke up with bitter satisfaction and the feeling of sharp metal being shoved between his ribs.

A reset.

He knew it. He knew that they would reset soon. It always did, it always would. And what a coincidence that it happened just as everything all went to hell, just as Asgore decided to impale him on his spear.

Ha… it wasn’t enough anymore to kill them by themself, was it? Now the little demon had to set them all on each other instead. It must have been hilarious to watch them teach each other apart over them.

Sans heard clumping footsteps in the hallway, before Papyrus broke in through the door.

“ _Sans!_ ” He shouted, fear and desperation sounding clear in his voice. The smaller skeleton quickly got out of bed and dashed up to his brother, trying to find the source of his distress.

This hadn’t happened before.

“Is everything okay?! Are you alright?!” He asked, looking over him and finding no visible harm.

Seeing his brother, Papyrus let out a relieved wheeze, and pulled him into his arms. He gripped tightly, bones rattling faintly in a way that Sans hadn’t seen since they were children.

“Oh god brother, I thought you were dead, he stabbed you, he stabbed you, what would I do-?!” He babbled, fingers gripping tightly onto his jacket.

Sans froze.

Oh fuck.

“L-listen Pap, I’m not sure what you’re-!” He tried to say, but his brother cut him off, his voice thick begging.

“Please don’t lie to me brother. Not right now.”

Sans hesitated, but nodded into Papyrus’ shoulder, letting himself slowly relax into the hug.

“Yeah… yeah okay. That’s… fair enough.”

He wasn’t quite sure how long they stood there, holding on to one another, making sure that they were okay, they were alive, they were _real_. It was nice, to be hugged like this, Sans thought. It had been… a long time.

( _Small arms gripping tightly as their body shook with sobs, begging him to believe them, that they hadn’t reset, hadn’t wanted to reset, their pleas muffled into his jacket and… he couldn’t move. But the rage came back, flooded his Soul and he couldn’t think, because how dare they, he had **told them not to reset again**_ - _! And without thinking he reacted and-!_

 _They never hugged him again._ )

Eventually they separated and just… stood there facing each other. Neither one of them sure what to say.

“I ju-“

“I th-“

They paused.

“You go fi-“

“It’s fine, you-“

They stopped again and smiled awkwardly at each other. After some waiting, Sans finally spoke.

“Sorry bro. You go first.”

Papyrus nodded slightly, opened his mouth, hesitated, before seemingly settling on something.

“I… think we need to talk Sans. Properly, and about… everything that’s… happened. I- please. Please Sans, you can’t keep quiet about this anymore,” he pleaded.

“I- no, Paps, listen, you don’t understand-!” No, he couldn’t tell his baby brother about this, couldn’t horrify him with everything that had happened, make him listen to-

“Then _help_ me understand!” He cried out, and Sans flinched.

“Of course I don’t understand! No-one does! Because you refuse to tell anybody! You refuse to explain anything about all of this! And this is important Sans! It’s no longer just Frisk’s life at stake! It’s yours as well! I- I can’t watch Asgore kill you again! I _can’t_ _do_ that again Sans!” Papyrus sobbed, and grabbed his brother again.

“I-“

“Just… please. Please tell us. Tell _me_. Explain it to Undyne and Asgore. And then we can fix everything! Just show them that you’re not what they think you are-!” His voice was muffled in his jacket as he continued to hold on, waiting for him to say something, _anything_.

…But what could Sans say? Because technically, Undyne and Asgore were right. He wasn’t innocent in this.

Far from it.

How much of it was his fault?

What was it Grillby had said? How traumatic events can cause a change in personality?

( _He had grabbed them by the shirt, shook them violently, hissed dark threats into their head about what would happen if they kept resetting, if they refused to let this run be the last,_ promised _them that he would not hesitate to hurt them-!_

_A day later, it reset._

_And well… he always kept his promises, didn’t he?_

_…_

_They stopped coming out of the Ruins after ten reloads._

_…_

_The next time they came out, they slaughtered **everybody**.)_

They had tried to tell him. To make him understand that they couldn’t control what was happening. And he had just… reacted. Let his anger take over for once, his anger at the uncertainty, the doubt, the fear, the fucking resets, that goddamn _kid-!_

He had wanted them to know. To know that he’d had enough, that he would start fighting back, that he wouldn’t let them do this anymore.

He had wanted them to know that he **_hated_** them.

And now? Now he didn’t know what he felt. It was easy to hate someone when everything was black and white. But nothing made sense anymore. He… wanted to keep hating them, to blame them for everything bad that had happened, because it was so much easier than acknowledging his part in everything.

Or hell, his _lack of a part_.

Jesus, Undyne was right.

All he ever did was watch from the background. The only time he took action was when it personally affected him and sometimes not even then. He’d pick and choose where to meddle, using the same old excuse of ‘it’s not going to matter anyway’.

He hadn’t kept any promises, only the ones made to himself.

Even in the beginning.

All he could do was grip his brother tighter.

 

* * *

 

There was something off.

She had been making her usual rounds, when a sense of… wrongness hit her. Confusion, bewilderment, disbelief. She was confused. Why was she back in the Underground? She had just been-

Just been-

The thought slipped out of her head, left her standing in the middle of a corridor and she tried to recall what was wrong, what was out of place. She combed through her memories of the past few days, tried to pick out anything unusual, but there was nothing. She slowly shook her head and made her way back home. She had to be imagining things.

But the feeling of having been here, having done… something, over and over again, kept lingering in her mind.

And then she was called, had been brought over to attend to a distraught human child, and she was overwhelmed with emotion once again. Love and fear and grief and fury flooded her soul. Parts of her wanted to reach out, to hold this child and never let them go, while others clawed at her to fight them, to make sure they never harmed anyone ever-!

(One part wanted to scream and scream and scream.)

But they were injured. Self-inflicted if what the ghost told her was true.

And Toriel could never turn away a child.

So she steeled herself, locked away every conflicted feeling she had and lifted the child up. They were small, soft, bloody, and something in her heart broke. She cradled them gently, let them cling desperately to her fur and sob their eyes out.

She brought them back to her house, cleaned up their wounds and bandaged them up, all while they held on to her as though she was the only thing keeping them anchored to reality. They only let go when they fell asleep, and even then they seemed to reach out for something. So she brought over a chair and sat beside them, watched over them as they slept, both out of worry and wariness.

(She had done this so long ago to another child, watched over them while they coughed and hacked, had prayed for them to get better-

But they never did.)

When they showed signs of waking up, she had left to get them water and something to eat, and upon returning she found them awake, but staring into nothing. She spoke quietly to them, let them see the water and bread, asked them if she wanted to heal their wounds, but they barely reacted. They drank the water, nibbled on the bread and only shrugged at her question. She hesitated, but decided it would be better to heal it up before it could cause any other problems. The child flinched at her magic, but otherwise did nothing.

Toriel’s Soul ached for them.

She brought over her books from the living room and sat next to them, would read out passages to see if they would respond, but they just burrowed back under the covers and closed their eyes. She hadn’t been sure if they were sleeping or not, but she decided to leave anyway, to let them get some type of rest.

She let herself break down in her bedroom, held her head as thoughts and questions clashed in her mind. Why they had hurt themself, if they had fallen into the Underground on purpose, how they became this way, why she felt so scared, why she felt so strongly about them-!

Why they were so so similar to-!

She let out a muffled sob.

Everybody had said that time heals, that it helped patch the missing pieces in your Soul. And she had waited and waited for the hole to close, for the grief to fade away. But it never had. It still strangled her Soul every morning, still echoed throughout her heart every time she went to Chara’s grave, still ached every moment she saw those disgusting flowers-!

(Toriel wasn’t stupid. She knew what Chara had done to themself, after all, they had accidentally done the same thing several months before to Asgore. But he was a boss monster, he was strong enough to take it, he was made of magic, not water and blood. He was able to overcome it.

And Chara couldn’t.

In the end, Chara had been so very young, so very human. Small, determined and ever so fragile.

That was the mistake monsters always made. They thought that having a strong Soul translated into having a strong body. But she had learnt over the years just how fragile humans really were. They could take a lot, yes, but they didn’t have magic coursing through their systems, they weren’t taught how to battle from a young age, they weren’t used to having things trying to kill them at any given moment.

They were just children. And she had seen so many, **_too_** many, fall.)

But now wasn’t the time to wallow. Toriel would continue as she always had.

She forced herself to get up, brought some more food to the little one, sat next to them as they picked at it. She asked small questions, their name, how old they were and if they needed anything else, but they simply shrugged. She nodded gently back, because she wouldn’t push them, wouldn’t break whatever fragile trust they might be building. Instead, she told them a bit about herself, about the Ruins, read some snail facts from her book, hummed silly songs, just to fill the air with some life, to maybe take their mind off of whatever troubled them. When it became clear they were nodding off, she took the tray and her books, turned the light off with a quiet promise to come if they needed anything, and left the room. She let them sleep alone tonight, but would check up on them every so often, just to make sure they were alright.

But she must have been more exhausted than she thought, falling asleep almost immediately after sitting down in her armchair.

And by the time she woke up, they were gone.

 

* * *

 

“Hey Undyne? Can I ask you something?” A small voice asked beside her, and she blearily cracked her eye open. The living room was still dark, only illuminated through the flickering menu screen of whatever movie they had been watching. Frisk was tucked neatly into her side, head resting on her shoulder, blankets carefully wrapped around them.

“’Course,” she muttered quietly, carefully running her fingers through their hair. There was a moment of silence between them, before they softly spoke up again.

“What… What would you do if you were stuck repeating the same things over and over again?”

“Change my schedule probably,” she joked, but trailed off when she saw their serious expression.

“No I mean like, you continuously return to the same point in time no matter what you do. Like a sort of… time loop,” they clarified hesitantly.

“What, like ‘Groundhog Day’?”

“Yeah, sorta. But changing yourself doesn’t stop it from happening. Nothing stops it from repeating over and over again.”

“Huh. I’d probably tell the others, or at least Alphys. She could probably whip up a solution in no time! And maybe I’d talk to Sans… I think his specialty was physics and time and stuff back when he still worked as a scientist,” Undyne confidently explained, giving Frisk a grin. They looked away, and her smile slowly slid off her face.

“Hey, is everything al-?”

“What if you did talk to somebody, but they think that you’re the one controlling the time loop?”

“So more a ‘Girl who Leapt Through Time’ kinda situation?”

“Not really, but that’s how the other person sees it. Just you frivolously jumping back in time over and over again for fun.” They still weren’t looking at her.

“Well I’d explain the situation and set them straight-!”

“They don’t believe you.”

 “Jeez Frisk, this really is a no-win scenario you’re giving me,” she sighed out.

“…What if it wasn’t a scenario? What if it was real?”

Undyne paused and looked at them. Frisk stared back at her.

…

Well. She hadn’t been expecting that. Either this was all an elaborate prank or something deeper was going on. And Frisk wasn’t really the pranking type.

But could they actually be experiencing something like this? Was it even possible? Sure, there were a lot of strange and unexplainable things in the world, but time travel? Or a form of time travel? Maybe this was just some sort of long-winded metaphor about something deeper that she didn’t quite understand? She wasn’t sure what to think.

“Frisk, I-,” she started, but was cut off by Frisk shaking their head.

“Don’t worry Undyne; it was just a silly question,” they smiled shakily at her, and began to burrow back into their blankets, but she wasn’t done with this.

 “…Frisk, you know you can talk to me right? You don’t need to ask convoluted questions to try and get help with something. And if this… this didn’t sound like ‘just a silly question’. I might be missing the point you’re making, but you know that I’m here for you, right?”

 “…Yeah.”

There was a moment of silence, before Undyne sighed.

“I don’t know if I should push you to talk, or just let it be. The parenting books say I should ask, but the blogs are adamant that I-” she trailed off as she realised what she was saying, and Frisk looked at her curiously.

“Parenting books? Blogs?” They wondered out loud, and she blushed.

“Well, you’re over here quite a lot, and the Queen’s been pretty busy with her duties lately, and _someone_ has to be a responsible adult and look after you, so I just figured I’d get some advice or something…” she explained, cheeks stained a dark blue. They gave her a smile, a real one this time, and something in her Soul relaxed.

“I think you’ve been doing pretty great, even without the books!”

“W-Well, of course! I’m gonna be the best Goddamn pare- guardian you’ve ever seen! At least until the Queen’s workload lessens… But until then! I will! Be! The best!” She grinned widely at Frisk, before grabbing the blankets and aggressively tucking the kid in.

“It’s bedtime punk! Kiddos should have a regular and reliable bedtime to establish a good routine! Tucking you in gives you a source of comfort and helps you develop stable relationships! A goodnight kiss shows that I love you!” She leaned down and pecked them on the forehead, grin getting bigger as they giggled at her antics.

“Goodnight nerd! I love you!”

“I love you too Undy-!”

The world distorted and Undyne woke up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> <https://discord.gg/jBB4FaT>


	22. Contemplate

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not too happy with the beginning of this chapter, but we are finally heading towards the end. Sorry if this chapter is a bit weird, I kept on flip flopping between various discussions, portrayals and explanations. I decided to go with this in the end. 
> 
> As always, discord chat is here: <https://discord.gg/jBB4FaT>  
> Go on there if you want to talk about Fade Away or discover other incredible stories!
> 
> TW: Implied suicide, injuries, discussion of murder and genocide

The first thing you noticed as you drifted into consciousness was the aching pain pulsing in your body. Your eyes wrenched open at the sudden throbbing, only to snap them shut immediately when bright light shone into them. Eyes burning alongside your battered body, you couldn’t help but let out a soft whimper. What… had happened? You vaguely remembered seeing a large hole, feeling relieved and scared at once, your heart pounding in trepidation and excitement as you slowly approached the edge...

And then you were falling, and the eagerness and relief transformed into terror and regret, and oh God what have I done, I don’t want to die, I don’t want to die, I don’t-!

Impact, agony smashing into your limbs, air pushed from your heaving lungs, searing light behind your eyes-

Darkness.

Warmth on your face, numbness slowly bleeding out from your body as the pain began to bloom again…

Oh. You remembered now.

You didn’t know whether to cry or laugh. If you should be thankful for this chance at survival or furious that you failed.

(You steadfastly ignored the fear of falling, the horror that that was the end. Nothing had changed about this. You were still determined to… do something.)

(Your head ached.)

Body pounding and head buzzing, you crawled your way out of the direct sunlight, if only so you could open your eyes. You hesitantly opened your eyelids again, and relaxed at the dimmer light. Gingerly, you reached up to touch your head, and grimaced when it came away sticky. You decided to instead turn your sights to your surroundings.

And promptly blinked in shock at the scene before you.

A small patch of grass with a tiny field of golden flowers bursting out from it sat in front of you. Sunlight filtered down directly onto the greenery, and you noticed a squished portion of the flowers where you must have landed. Drops of red stained the petals. Guilt filled you at the realisation that you might have ruined someone’s garden. And then you noticed the walls. Cold, grey stone surrounded you the small cavern you seemed to fallen in. Strangely enough, there was a pathway headed to the left, and when you peeked your head around, you saw a grand entry way, dark marble pillars on each side and delicate carvings on the arch.

You swallowed.

Did… someone live here?

 _(Why don’t you check it out?)_ The thought came quietly, almost suggestive. You were naturally curious despite your many attempts to suppress it (curiosity got you hurt, it lead to cockiness and arrogance, it lead to fists and shouting), but your surroundings practically begged you to investigate.

And suddenly, you were filled with determination to explore this strange place.

(Unseen, a tiny golden star formed beneath the stained petals, hovering over the old bones buried deep below it.)

(The beginning of the end.)

The few stories you were able to read (both from a lack of books at home and a struggle to understand the written word) would tell stories of monsters hiding in caverns like these, of ogres and dragons and goblins.

 _(What will you do if you find a monster?)_ Something within you asked, and you weren’t quite sure. Maybe… there were nice monsters? And you could be friends?

Of course, Flowey then ruined all of that. After slowly making your way down the dark corridor, hesitantly stepping through the grand door way, seeing another small patch of grass with a golden flower on it was almost disappointing.

And then it began to talk.

 _(I’ve never seen a flower monster…)_ You weren’t sure you had ever seen any monster, so you were slightly confused as to why your mind had been so specific. But it didn’t matter, because Flowey threw something at you, and suddenly it wasn’t the ‘friendliness pellets’ he had talked about, but broken bottles.

 _(Dodge!)_ You didn’t have to be told twice and instinctively ducked out of the way of the pellets.

“Hey buddy… You missed them,” Flowey pointed out, his face tight with anger, “let’s try this again, okay?”

 _(Something doesn’t seem right…)_ You couldn’t agree more. When he shot at you a second time, you dodged on purpose, flinching when one got too close.

“Is this a joke? Are you brain dead? Run. Into. The. Bullets- friendliness pellets,” he hissed out, quickly correcting his slipup, but you heard it. The bullets were fired at you quicker this time, but despite your experience with dodging, you weren’t quite fast enough. You cried out in shock and pain, as several gashes tore their way into your body.

What happened after seemed to be a blur, Flowey’s cruel declaration of kill or be killed, the terror you felt as the bullets closed in, the heat of the fire blasting the cackling flower away, as slowly the bruises and cuts faded away. And then the tall (goat?) monster standing in front of you protectively, her gentle introduction, her offer to show you the Ruins.

 _(…Mom?)_ Something asked, and you wrinkled your brow in confusion. Toriel seemed to be kind, but so had Flowey. And besides, she wasn’t your mother.

(Needles, vomit, lipstick, vodka, screaming, nail varnish, fighting, perfume-)

It was strange that you had thought that. And as Toriel led you through the Ruins, you had more and more intrusive thoughts, alongside other casual musings.

_(The Ruins seem so empty…)_

_(Where is everyone?)_

_(Why is Toriel here alone?)_

Slowly you began to wonder if those were actually _your_ thoughts, and not someone else’s. Especially when you managed to read the signs on the walls a lot easier than usual.

But there were plenty of strange things in the Ruins, like those golden stars or the traps or Toriel’s warm hand (paw?) in your own, so your attention quickly flittered away until you had another weird observation. Then Toriel left you alone, told you to stay while she ran some errands.

_(It will be a while before Toriel is back. You should look around.)_

And suddenly you were exploring the Ruins alone, meeting other smaller monsters, answering your phone, solving puzzles. You made it to Toriel’s house, met her in front of the door and she wasn’t mad at you for disobeying, instead she gave you a room, tucked you in, brought you pie. Your chest felt tight at her generosity, at her kindness, longing and sadness crashing like waves into you as you ate your pie with tears on your face.

_(It tastes like home.)_

You couldn’t find it in yourself to correct the strange voice. Once you finished your meal, you left the room, sat on Toriel’s lap as she gently read her book out to you. She told you about her dream of being a teacher, of the lesson plan she made for you, her excitement at having you.

And a part of you was excited as well, couldn’t wait to live with this kind woman who treated you with so much love, you thought of your comfy bed, the good filling food, the chance to have a… family.

_(Stay with her. Mo- Toriel is good. She’ll look after you. You can have a home. Stay with her!)_

But of course, you couldn’t do that. You knew what you were. You were a burden, a mistake, and if you stayed with Toriel, then she would one day realise just what a terrible child you were and she would throw you out as well and it would hurt even more because you would have grown _attached_. No. Better to leave now, before she did it herself.

So, like everything else in your life, you ruined it.

You asked to leave. The words tasted like ash.

_(What are you doing?)_

She tried to distract you.

You asked again.

_(Stay!)_

It escalated, to the point that she lifted you off her lap and told you to wait there, while she stomped off down the stairs.

You followed.

_(Go back upstairs! You don’t want this!)_

You went down, down the winding corridor, until you reached a purple door decorated with the same symbol on Toriel’s dress. She herself stood in front of the door. Her back was to you. She began to talk, spoke about monsters willing to hurt you, to kill you on the other side, how she was only trying to protect you, as she had failed others.

_(Mom…)_

You took a step forward.

_(No!)_

You entered a battle.

She refused to listen to you.

_(Stop fighting!)_

The fire burned.

It was different dodging bottles. Even the bullets had a predictable trajectory.

But Toriel’s fire twisted and turned, catching you off guard, singing your clothes, and eventually, your skin.

_(Run away! Go upstairs!)_

You refused to fight. But you also refused to give up. This was for the best.

The voice in your head got louder and louder, sound bubbling up in your throat and something in you screeched out: “ _Mom! Please!_ ”

And suddenly a fireball larger than the others appeared in front of you, and for a split second you saw Toriel’s face drop in absolute horror, paws reaching up to cup her mouth, before your limbs began to move without your permission and you threw yourself to the side. Part of you managed to get hit, burning your arm and side. But you got out of the way.

Well.

The voice got you out of the way.

_(She… tried to kill you?)_

Toriel stopped the battle immediately, healed you up, held you tight. But eventually she let go, and asked you to leave. And to never return.

This was what you wanted. You wanted to leave. It was for the best.

(So why did you feel like screaming and crying? Why did you want to grasp at Toriel’s robes and refuse? Promise to stay, to be good, to listen- Why did you always make decisions you’d regret?)

And then she was gone, and it was just you and the voice.

_(You got what you wanted. You should go through the door.)_

You shoved the longing, regret, desperation building up in your chest down. Now wasn’t the time to feel sorry. You had a voice in your head that didn’t belong to you, but was able to use your mouth and your body.

“What are you? How are you in my head?” You demanded, but it came out a shy croak. The voice didn’t respond.

“I know you’re there! You used my mouth! You moved my body! How did you do that!”

_(I don’t know.)_

You blinked. Confusion welled up inside you.

_(I… don’t know what happened. I don’t know why I’m here. I don’t… know who I am?)_

“…Have… you lost your memory? You seemed to recognise…” You tapered off.

_(I think… she was my mom. But I don’t remember much…)_

“How… are you in my head? Are you maybe… a ghost? Like Napstablook?”

_(I… don’t know.)_

“Well… what _do_ you know?” You hadn’t meant for it to be quite as snappish, but nothing was making sense at the moment and you really just wanted answers.

_(I know… my name. I think.)_

“What is it? What’s your name?”

_(I… Chara. My name is… Chara. What’s… your name?)_

“Me? I’m-!”

 

* * *

 

 _(_ **Frisk!** _)_

Chara’s screaming forced Frisk awake from their position in the golden flowers. The memories of the last reset rushed in their mind and suddenly their confusion was replaced by giddiness. They could stop the resets! They found a way to end it all!

(Despite the happiness they felt about finally finding a solution, Frisk couldn’t help but wonder if everything could have been prevented.

There was a part of Frisk that didn’t know what was funnier. That everything they went through, all the deaths and horrors and pain and blood, was a result of wanting things to stop too much. Or the fact that it all had stemmed from one big misunderstanding, a lack of communication, of patience, of _trust_.

Just like those stupid rom-coms or comedy skits. Two characters fight with each other over a ridiculous misunderstanding, while the tinny laughter of the audience played in the background, because they knew what was really going on.

Except nobody was laughing now.

Because this wasn’t a rom-com so much as it was a Shakespearian tragedy.)

Shaking their head to clear those thoughts, Frisk instead focused on the furious screaming in their head. They had to tell Chara about their discovery! They would be so pleased!

 “Chara! I found-!”

 _(Why did you do that?! I had everything planned! Why did you reset?!)_ Chara hissed furiously.

“What do you mean ‘why did you reset?’?! You made me commit suicide in front of Sans! You were going to make Asgore kill Sans!” Their good mood quickly drained away, annoyance replaced it instead.

_(He deserves it! He talks so much about actions having consequences and that you have to take responsibility, but then he just kills you over and over again! Every single thing that goes wrong is automatically your fault in his eyes!)_

“We killed his brother! I think he’s allowed to be suspicious of us!”

 _(Boohoo, we killed his brother, like we’ve killed every Godforsaken monster in this hell hole. Have you forgotten the times that everyone else murdered us?! Why is it that when the monsters do it, it’s fine, it’s self-defence, but if we do it, then we’re a terrible person who deserves to die horribly?!)_ They mocked viciously, hatred dripping from their words like poison.

“Because systematically killing the monster race isn’t self-defence! It’s genocide!” Frisk barked back, annoyance slowly becoming anger.

 _(Slaughtering children for their souls is child homicide! And besides, they started it! How many times did you die the first run? We kill a monster by accident_ **once** _and it’s enough for Sans to call us disgusting. They kill us for our soul over and over, and he praises us for our ‘restraint’ and ‘kindness’. It’s a double standard! He’s a promise-breaking hypocrite!)_

“The monsters didn’t know-!”

 _(-any better? How the_ fuck _do you not know when you kill someone?! You can’t use that excuse for them Frisk! They knew damn well what they were doing, hell, they even enjoyed it!)_

“So did we!” Frisk shouted back.

Stunned silence filled the air.

The both of them rarely spoke of those runs. It was something they had agreed was better left alone, lest someone said something they would regret. At the time they agreed upon it, their truce had been fragile and tenuous at best, and discussion about the atrocities they had committed would have only made everything worse.

“We enjoyed killing them as well, Chara. We’re not… ‘above’ the monsters. Not after what we did.”

_(You mean what **I** did.)_

“No! What I did Chara, blaming you, was wrong! I should never have done that! Sure, you nudged me in that direction, but you couldn’t have known… what I would do. That first genocide run wasn’t you Chara. You weren’t the one in control. I was. That was all me. And… I enjoyed it.” Frisk whispered quietly, staring at the golden flowers they sat on.

 _(You had to stop after fighting Sans because you felt sick.)_ Chara pointed out after a while.

“Because I was ashamed. And scared at how much I… liked the power. It was exhilarating. After being so scared for so long, I was able to inflict the same on my ‘tormentors’. It was revenge. I was angry at how the monsters treated me. I did so much for them and they never remembered. I freed them from their prison and they couldn’t bother to learn more about me. They watched me get taken by CPS, even after promising me a home. I guess I felt… entitled. I wanted them to rescue me, to take me somewhere safe and warm, where I could eat butterscotch pie and drink golden flower tea. I wanted a family, but they couldn’t give that to me.

“They couldn’t have known about me because I never told them anything. They couldn’t remember, because that’s not how resets work. They couldn’t stop CPS because the monsters aren’t legally registered. We couldn’t be a family, because Asgore and Toriel never stopped mourning you and Asriel.

“I think I was jealous of you. That you got to experience the real, proper thing, while all I got were ‘scraps’. Toriel accidentally calling me Chara. Asgore unable to look me in the eye. So I started to blame you, got angrier and angrier and saw you as the reason of my misery. When I reset after that genocide run, I felt disgusting. The guilt made me want to throw up. I couldn’t bear to face anyone, not after I saw Sans remember every time I died. So you offered to take over, to try it yourself, and I let you. And then you did it over and over, without flinching and suddenly the shame felt lighter. Because I wasn’t the one doing it anymore, you were. So I could blame you for Sans’ hatred. Blame you for forcing me into it. Pretend that you were the one who forced me into this, who 'took over' my body and used me for you own evil gain. But it wasn’t your fault. None of it. I was lying to myself to try and ignore my own actions, to push away the guilt and shame and horror at what I did.

“…I know you like to see me as ‘innocent’ and ‘precious’ and ‘kind’. But I’m not. I've been a pretty shit friend, and an even shittier sibling. I don’t know how much of your anger and hatred is actually mine, forced upon you. Just like I’m not sure if your self-hatred and depression bled over from my own feelings. I found a way to stop the resets. All I have to do is extract some determination. Turns out we have too much of it. If you want, we can take out all of my determination and leave yours. Then, when we get to Asgore, we can give up my Soul and break the barrier.”

There was silence between them for a moment, before Chara whispered out: _(What would happen then?)_

Taking a deep breath, Frisk gave a wobbly smile.

“You can take my body as your own. You could be alive again.”


	23. Foresight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My god, I think this is the longest chapter. I'm in a real groove right now, two chapters in a week??? Also, I think my writing style has changed a bit, and I really hope it fits in with the rest of the story.  
> (Some humour? In Fade Away? It's more likely than you think.)  
> (At least I thought it was funny.)  
> A lot of dialogue, discussion and a bit of world building! I now know why people do it, it's really fun to come up with a background like that. Keeping in mind that this is all fiction, and fanfiction at that, please don't tell me that 'oh such and such didn't happen' or 'you got this exact specific thing wrong'. I wanted to write a bit more about the magic and families in Undertale, of which not a lot is known about. If I get a major thing wrong, then go ahead and tell me. I hope I don't sound snappy, it's just I spent a lot of time thinking about this. Anyway, hope you enjoy this chapter.  
> Discord: <https://discord.gg/jBB4FaT>  
> Also, turns out I was really unclear with one part, so I've fixed that.
> 
> TW: Discussion of death and suicide, war, execution, magical shenanigans.

_(Are you insane? Are you braindead? Did you accidentally fry your brain when you reset? Because I can’t think of any of reason why you would suggest such a_ **stupid** _idea,)_ Chara spat out, anger slowly rising again.

“What? No! I just thought-!” Frisk tried to reply, but were cut off.

 _(You’d make another Flowey? ‘Cause that’s what’s gonna happen. Wow, what a great idea, let’s stick the unstable spirit made up of determination into a soulless host, because that worked out_ great _last time! Congratulations Frisk, you’re a fucking moron.)_

“I- Oh. I… forgot about that… But maybe it would work differently with a human host! Flowers aren’t usually known to be sentient, so maybe being in a human already programmed with emotions would change that!”

_(Doesn’t change a thing. Souls are the very culmination of every sentient being. Their hopes, their dreams, their emotions, who they fundamentally are. Without your Soul, your body is literally an empty husk. If I took over, I wouldn’t even be able to feel anything. Sure maybe some echoes here and there, but it would be a horrible life. I wouldn’t even have the ability to reset to somewhat keep me stable. I’d kill myself within a week.)_

It shocked Frisk enough that they stayed quiet, absentmindedly picking at the flowers they were sat on.

“What about you? Don’t you have a Soul? You said you’re a spirit, is that like a ghost? Because Napstablook and Mettaton and the Dummies all have Souls, so wouldn’t you as well?” They asked suddenly, and Chara seemed to freeze in their mind.

 _(That’s… different. Ghosts are a strange case. They have a Soul, but it doesn’t…_ exist _in the physical world. Remember how we couldn’t kill Napstablook? That’s because they belong to a different plane of existence. We were able to kill Mettaton and the Dummies because they had attached themselves to a physical body, but even then, they would have reformed at some point. We killed their physical selves, but not their actual Soul. It’s… really complicated.)_ They fell silent, trying to think of ways to explain it.

_(When I… died… I managed to cling on through sheer determination. I tethered myself to the dust of my own brother to anchor myself. Normally… that wouldn’t work. If it did, then more people would be alive up on the surface. Haven’t you ever found it weird that the six human Souls have managed to stay on the physical plane for so long, when up there, no-one’s ever seen a Soul? Hell, even when you died, your Soul crumbled into pieces. So why is it that their Souls manage to linger?)_

And Frisk remembered their conversation with the six Souls.

“The barrier…” They breathed out.

 _(Yeah. That’s what I thought too. The barrier creates a physical representation of who we are through sheer magic. Everything in the Underground has magic._ Is _magic. So when humans fall in, the barrier is forced to change our bodies in order for us to survive it. That’s how the barrier works. Non-magical things can go in, but magical things can’t leave.)_

“But… how can the barrier be destroyed then with seven human Souls if they’re now magical?”

 _(Because they’re not. You can’t cast fireballs or summon bones or spears, can you? The human Souls themselves aren’t magical. They were created as a result of our human bodies changing to accept magic, but neither actually_ is magic _. At least, not until we eat monster food. Then we have some magic in our bodies, but can’t actually use it. That’s how the barrier traps humans. We are now partially magical.)_

“That doesn’t answer how I can cross the barrier with a monster Soul and a human Soul, let alone how the barrier can be broken with just human Souls.”

_(Well that’s the thing, isn’t it? It took seven human Souls to create the barrier using all of their magic at once. It would then make sense that seven human Souls could reabsorb said magic. That’s my theory anyway.)_

“What?!”

_(Yeah.)_

“ ** _What?!_** ”

_(Why did you think I was so angry?)_

“Then why the hell do they need to kill the humans that fall down here?!”

_(I doubt children make the most stable containers. The sorcerers who sealed the monsters were adults in their prime, the best and the most magically powerful. If you forced all of that into a small body… Sure, their Soul might be able to handle it, but their bodies wouldn’t. It was probably kinder to kill their bodies and just keep their Souls instead. Less pain. And mess.)_

“How are you so calm?! You were furious about this before!”

_(Compartmentalisation and dissociation. I’m still not over our previous conversation. That, and I was angry because it meant my plan with Asriel would have never worked. Our deaths were pointless.)_

“Are… you okay?” Frisk asked hesitantly. Chara mentally shrugged.

_(I’m responsible for the death of my brother. I was also just told that all my emotions might actually not be mine, but actually a by-product of your inability to cope with guilt. You then offered to kill your Soul so I could have your empty body. Forgive me if I’m a bit out of it. I have no idea what’s real or not at the moment. So I decided for something familiar. Apathy and indifference.)_

“Jesus, I had no idea, I am so sorry Chara. I- there’s nothing really I can say that would make this better, is there.” They buried their face into their hands and tried not to cry. What had they done?

_(Not really, no.)_

They sat in silence for a while, Frisk hunched over and desperately trying to think of ways to fix this, and Chara in tired contemplation.

 _(I don’t actually want your body, you know. I don’t want you to die either. And I don’t think I hate you as well. To be honest, I think we both fed on each other’s emotions. It wasn’t just you. All that hatred and anger… it’s too much for one person. I think I hated you too, alongside myself. Because you got to be_ alive _. You could talk to mom and dad, you could_ hug them, you **hugged** Asriel… _I felt like I was being replaced. But then I saw your fear, how scared and ashamed you were, and all I could think was how similar you were to Asriel when we were kids. And I must have projected, latched on, because Flowey… that wasn’t my brother. I couldn’t believe what he had become, what_ my _actions had_ done _to him, so I forced my sights to you instead, pretended you were my small, shy sibling, who needed a hand to survive in this horrible world. At least then I could forget that mine and my brother’s deaths were pointless. That I’m essentially responsible for all the heartbreak and desperation in the Underground. But then we became so co-dependent that it was… unhealthy. We projected onto each other. We convinced ourselves we were all the other had, all the other_ **needed** _, because no-one else remembered, no-one else could help us. We were alone and it was hard and nobody understood.)_ Chara explained softly, bringing Frisk out of their panicked state.

…

“We… should have talked to each other sooner, shouldn’t’ve we.”

_(Yeah. It probably would have been better in the long run.)_

They let themselves fall down into the flowers, closed their eyes as the sun hit their face, breathed in the sweet scent of the flowers.

Back to square one.

“What should we do now? How are we going to break the barrier? Stop the resets?”

_(Gaster said that this was game we had to ‘win’. The human Souls said we had to stop our determination from burning everything. Both don’t really make sense. What is determination really? How do we obtain a ‘true win’? Whose fault is all of this? And don’t say yours.)_

“I don’t know, not really. All we know is that determination naturally occurs in humans, wreaks havoc on monsters and can give plants the will to live. And that we have too much of it.”

 _(Fucking hell, Flowey. If we did your determination extraction idea, who’s to say the little bastard wouldn’t steal it at the first opportunity to get his powers back? He’s also probably pissed about the last reset. And if we managed to hide it from him, what then? We’d still have loose determination hanging around. Plus the barrier problem. And the- Oh shit.)_ Chara stopped muttering, realisation setting in.

“What? What?!”

_(I can’t believe I forgot about this. Your plan wouldn’t have worked, even if you managed to get the determination out, dispose of it somewhere without it biting us in the ass, you would have never gotten past the barrier. You would have never been able to give up your Soul.)_

“Why? What- Oh no. Oh no, no no.” Frisk’s stomach clenched in pure panic and absolute terror, bile rising up in their throat and burning their mouth. Nothing could ever go well for them, could it? Because this was their worst nightmare.

_(Yeah. Flowey told me some interesting stuff last run. Turns out we're not the only ones who can share emotions with each other. Except ours can’t fucking go through time and space itself to other versions of us. Which is what seems to be the case with the others. We must have really traumatised them if their emotions in previous resets were strong enough for them to remember. At least we’re not stuck with Sans anymore. That’s one bonus.)_

Frisk gave a desperate scream.

 

* * *

 

Déjà vu hit Toriel like a punch to the gut as she made her way to her Chara’s (oh God Chara, her sweet, mischievous Chara) grave, forcing her to suddenly stop and clutch at a wall for support to wait for the world to settle again. She had- She was just-? There had been- gone- what?

What?

Dizziness and confusion made it hard for her to stand up straight, gradually forcing her to her knees in an attempt to stop the nausea. Nothing made sense- Where was she? Why was she making her ‘rounds’? The child needed- The child-

Toriel sat there for a while, desperate to gather her thoughts and try to make sense of what was going on in her mind. She tried to grasp on to blurry thoughts each time they attempted to slip away from her like smoke, just to try and understand what was _happening_ , what was going _on_. She was sick of feeling like she was forgetting things. She would never have to suffer from ailments of the elderly (but she would age happily, so so happily if it meant holding Asriel and Chara in her arms again, if she could just see them one last time and tell them how much she loved them, her children, her precious children), but the gaps in her mind seemed to be increasing and were causing her distress. She didn’t know what day it was, what time it was, became confused as to why she was in the Ruins and not somewhere else, set the table for more people than just herself, heard laughter in the back of her head, found herself turning to ask someone a question-

But no-one was there. Toriel was alone.

(Sometimes the laughter turned to screams, the pleasantness turned into sour terror and disgust, dust sticky on her fingers, phantom pains on her body, the glint of a knife in the corner of her eye, the smell of burned flesh in the air, the feeling of having another child torn away from her like wet paper-)

And it all seemed to start when she made her way to the flowers.

Hesitantly, she brought out her phone to check the time and date. It would ground her, reassure her that where she was was _real_ , she was _real_ , she was _here_ and this was _now_.

But… surely that wasn’t the date?

She could have sworn it was…

(MondayWednesdaySeptemberSundayDecemberFridayOctoberNovemberTuesdaySaturdayJanuaryFebruaryThursdayMarch-)

She…

It…

 “What?” Toriel muttered quietly, trying to make sense of the date on her phone.

It wasn’t-

She thought it was-

Nothing… nothing made sense.

Maybe… maybe it would be best if she went home and had a lie down. She was sure no humans would fall down in the meantime. There hadn’t been one in… a while. She doubted one would appear today.

Slowly pushing herself off the ground, Toriel cautiously stood up, waiting for the shakiness of her limbs to keep her stable. How long had she been sat there? Gradually, the weakness subsided. She let out a soft sigh, pocketed her phone and dusted herself off, before hesitantly making her way back to her house.

Today was just a day. Tomorrow would be better. She would feel better after a nap-

A scream echoed within the Ruins, full of denial and desperation, begging to some unknown God that please, don’t let it be this way-

And it was familiar. So, so familiar. Something clawed inside her Soul, desperate and pleading, and for a moment, she thought that it was her screaming. Because she had screamed like this before, with agony and denial thick in her chest, staring at the blood and dust of her gorgeous, dead, dead, dead children, and listening to Alphys’ desperate sobs as she told them that Frisk had killed themself-!

(How many children? How many children would she have to lose to suicide? What was she being punished for? Or was she really just that terrible of a guardian?)

The memories poured in.

Meeting Frisk for the first time, the very first time, how small and sweet and gentle they were. Following them out of the Ruins (but that wasn’t quite right, was it?), saving them from Asgore, meeting all of their friends, getting to the surface, Frisk staying with her-

Frisk being taken from her. The CPS, child services, social workers, so much politics it made her head spin, only being allowed to visit once a month, fighting for custody, forced to focus on monster rights because while she loved Frisk, she couldn’t abandon her people, not again.

(Instead she abandoned Frisk, again.)

Then suddenly the world resetting, meeting Frisk again and again and again, getting to the surface again and again and again. Sometimes they would stay, sometimes they would leave, sometimes they were taken. The tiredness and apathy slowly creeping into their eyes, even when they smiled brightly. Forced to fight politics over and over, winning monster rights, losing monster rights, building a town, being forced underground again, living in harmony, living in segregation, living in genocide.

Dust on Frisk, wild desperation in their eyes, a toy knife in their small, childish hands. Striking her down, tears streaming down their face, whispering I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, even as she condemned them. Then she was alive again, unknowingly led the child back into her home, but they looked different, seemed different. Disinterest and apathy, coldly staring her down, a glint of red in their eyes, the shrug at her words. Again. Again. Again.

Change.

More resets, similar, different, hopeful, despairing, healthy, dead. Becoming queen after Asgore’s disappearance, becoming queen to dead and dusty kingdom, being spared, being killed, being left behind.

Sometimes it was Frisk, sometimes it was the… _other_ that lurked inside them, but gradually they became worn down, slower, lethargic, going through the motions, reading out the script.

And then…

And then it was that day, that reset.

They left her simply, and she let them go (why, why didn’t she scream, why didn’t she hold on, hold them tight?). That was the last time she saw them. Because then Alphys came several weeks later, tapes in her hand, tears in her eyes, wild confusion and desperation in her words. Undyne running off. Sans staring uninterested (and when had that happened, when had her friend become so bitter?) into the distance. Alphys again, whispering those dreaded words she wished she would never have to hear, would never have to experience again.

_“They killed themself.”_

And because history repeats itself, Toriel screamed again.

 

* * *

 

It had been a long time since Asgore was last forced to attack and execute a monster. He prided himself on the state of peace in his kingdom, how quickly things were handled and solved. His people were kind, helpful, loved one another and rarely enjoyed getting into fights. Sure, there were a few small thefts here and there, teenagers testing each other and taking stupid risks because that’s what they did, or there were silly fights about property or accidents that could quickly be resolved by the participants or the Royal Guard.

But sometimes (three times), things got out of hand.

(Ralyne, Zager, Gaster)

It was before the birth of Asriel (his son, his kind, brave son), and barely a few decades after the war. Those times had been darker, his people less kind and more violent, anger and hatred running rife. They had all been involved in some way, had all lost parents and siblings and children. He himself had lost his mothers, Queen Asaria and Queen Tellagore, had suddenly become king in the middle of the war. But it had cooled off eventually, the bloodlust and hatred slowly waning into acceptance and hope, the grief slowly fading away into a dull acceptance. Asgore had not wanted his subjects to stay bitter and angry; it would only make things worse, so he and Toriel (Tori, Tori, his guiding light, the other half of his Soul) had rallied the monsters, inspired him to make things better, to make this prison into a home. And his people had followed, had understood and tried their best, despite the youth of his reign, how young and inexperienced he was.

But there would always be those who would cling to the past, who would keep those poisonous emotions close to their Soul until it bubbled over and burned the people who got too close. Because holding so much hatred and fury and violence could change a person’s very being, turn them into something so bitter and blind. Sometimes, people could come back, could beat the disease away and come out stronger than ever.

Sometimes, they could not, and it consumed them.

Ralyne was the first. Undyne’s great-grand-aunt, she came from a long line of warriors, was fierce and victorious and proud, his general, the person he trusted most next to his wife. She was nicknamed Rally for her ability to inspire, to encourage those who needed it. Her grand-niece was so similar to her that sometimes he forgot who he was speaking to, had to stop himself from calling her ‘Rally’, from asking if she wanted a beer. But Ralyne, who felt too much, saw too much, killed too much, couldn’t stop the need for more, for revenge, for blood. He was forced to dismiss her when she became volatile and desperate, violent and cruel with her soldiers, and their friendship had never recovered. Asgore tried for decades. Tried so hard to bring her Soul back, but she would ignore him, would spit hateful things, had changed until he couldn’t recognise her. And then one day the fury erupted, and she attacked four other monsters. One survived.

Three did not.

Ralyne became a danger to her surroundings, her magic violent and harsh, even when they imprisoned her. Eventually she attacked him, would not stop how no matter how many times he begged. And so, under the agreement of his advisors and the cries for justice from his people, with an aching Soul and dusty wound, Asgore was forced to execute her.

Monster tradition called for the dust of those who had committed a crime worthy of execution to be buried underground, rather than scattered over their favourite belongings, to show that they were not worthy to be with what they loved once they died. Their names would also be changed, to expel them from their family, to show that they did not deserve to be remembered by the name given to them out of love. The victims deserved to have their names remembered, who they were and what they could have been, but the criminal would be forgotten, to show that no glory or fame awaits those who murder, as well as to spare the family from being associated with them.

Ralyne’s family immediately denounced her to prevent backlash on their family, changed her name to Rel to strip her from the family name of Yne, and as demanded, they buried her dust in the ground to show her dishonour. They had always been a loyal clan, proud and trustworthy. The disgrace on their family name called for obedience, acceptance of whatever the victims demanded, as was law within their family. But Asgore could see the pain on Selyne’s face, the grief in her eyes as she was forced to disown her older sister, to cast her out from the line of Yne and forget about her forever to show that a murderer's name will not be remembered.

Zager was next, only a few years later. They were a scholar, intelligent beyond belief, desperate to uncover the secrets of the universe. Gerson’s younger sibling. He would invite the young monster to his own library, let them read whatever he wished, encouraged their studies, would tell them stories of the ancient past, decades before they were born. Then the war happened. They lost everything apart from their brother. But the humans weren’t content with just taking their family. They took the eyes Zager used to read so reverently, stole the arm they used to write sagas with, and left them to die among the dust of their family.

Not even Gerson could soothe their Soul.

They attacked nine children in the library. Five of them perished. The other four were traumatised.

Zager was executed the next day, their brother weeping on the side.

Gerson was forced to bury their dust as well, even though he tried to get their dust scattered in the library. His request was rejected. Zager was renamed Zu, and expelled from the family of Ger. Gerson was the last one remaining.

There were some days he couldn’t look Asgore in the eye.

Gaster was the last, centuries later. Sans and Papyrus’ grandfather. He was one of Asgore’s many many failures. While he may not have actually killed the man himself, he might as well have. Gaster was… beyond intelligent. A genius among geniuses, smarter than anyone he had ever known. The war might have taken his parents, but he was strong enough to continue, to ignore the growing nag of revenge. He was the youngest Royal Scientist, having achieved his position at a mere 17 years old, said to be the most brilliant scientist the reign of Dreemurr had ever seen. He was the one who discovered that the barrier needed human Souls to break, he was the one who invented the core and brought unlimited energy to monsters, he was the one who revolutionised technology and medicine. He was the hope of the Underground.

In the end, that was what broke him.

He became desperate to break the barrier, to live up to everyone’s hopes and dreams, to be the saviour of the Underground. He neglected his family, missed the birth of his youngest grandchild, practically lived in his lab, slowly became more and more obsessed. He knew that if he wanted to find a way to break the barrier, he needed test subjects.

Live, test subjects.

Asgore was forced to say no when Gaster proposed his idea. It didn’t matter that he would only use the elderly and the dying. He did not want to use the Souls of monsters that way.

He should have known. What a naïve fool he was.

He should have known he would ignore him.

People began to disappear. Usually orphans, loners, people who would not be missed if they weren’t found. But monsters did notice. They looked after each other when possible.

His Royal Guards had found several kilograms worth of dust in the labs. Enough for almost 30 monsters.

When Asgore finally confronted Gaster, they were in the Core. The scientist was too far gone to understand any reasoning, his mind set on the view that the lives of many outweighed the lives of few, of the unloved and unwanted. Then he attacked and they fought. It had been dangerous, precarious, both of them scrabbling to gain the upper hand. But the Core was still under construction, had weak fences and half-built pathways. In the final moment, when he finally had Gaster pinned, the concrete crumbled and they both clung onto the edge.

Maybe in that moment, clarity hit his old friend. Maybe he felt remorse, regret at what he had done. Maybe he was just trying to save his own non-existent skin. But in that moment, he let go to use both of his hands to levitate Asgore back onto a stable path way. To save his life.

And Gaster fell into the Core.

There was no dust to bury, to denounce, so his family faded into obscurity, the shame at what he had done forcing them to hide and change their names. Skeleton monsters had a different naming tradition than most, and were thus unable to remove any association to the family. Eventually, Gaster disappeared from the memories of the monsters as well however, as people were unwilling to remember a murderer. Asgore lost contact with the family, and didn’t hear anything more about them until Sans and Papyrus showed up in Snowdin. By that time, Gaster had well and truly faded out of existence, and the brothers were met with curiosity, not hostility.

Yet it seemed the past was doomed to repeat itself. He had once again failed one of his subjects. Sans hadn’t been a true danger, not to the monsters. Asgore should not have attacked him like that, should not have threatened any of them so casually. He had not executed anyone in decades, and the mere fact that he threatened them like that was horrifying. Undyne, brilliant, loyal Undyne, of the line Yne, collapsed on the floor with the same expression Toriel had on her face so many years ago. The fury, desperation, grief, grief, grief in her eyes felt like a knife to his Soul.

Sans and Papyrus, sons of Malgun and Garamond, who had both been loyal and hard working the entire time he knew them. (Well, Papyrus had been hard working. Sans was… Sans.)

Papyrus, who had been holding his older brother by his shirt, distraught and horrified, asking him ‘what did you do?’ over and over. Sans, who had screamed words of anger and fury, hatred bubbling in his empty empty eyes.

Sans, who had a trident shoved between his ribs and laughed hysterically, as the world reset just like he said it would.

Sans, who he had killed.

Sat in his throne room, Asgore felt the constant weight on his shoulders grow heavier. He felt so old, so tired.

It was in these moments that he desperately longed for his wife. His wife who was alive, but hiding in the Ruins, too furious with him to ever speak more than a few sentences to him. But Toriel would have known what to do. She would know what to do now.

“Get up off your fat fluffy bottom Asgore and go apologise. You have made a right royal mess of this, and as King, it is your responsibility to make it right,” she’d bark at him, shoving him off his throne. And he’d complain about her treatment, but would go anyway, would listen to what she’d have to say, because out of the two of them, she was always the smarter one.

Letting out a sigh that belied his true age, he forced himself out of his chair. He had been sat in his throne room for almost a full day reminiscing and pitying himself, and it was time he stopped. He was finished moping, waiting for something or nothing to come along, isolating himself in the castle. He would apologise to Undyne, Sans and Papyrus, and then he would find Frisk and bring them to his home, even if he had to go through the Ruins to do it. He would talk and apologise properly to Toriel, would treat her with respect like the Queen she was and not grovel at her feet like a spineless coward.

It was time he stepped up again, time he did something instead of wait for it to come to him.

Frisk needed the support, and he had failed them too many times already.

It was time he stopped being King Fluffybuns, and started being King Asgore again.

With that in his mind, he stood up and marched to the front door with determination.

And was promptly attacked by a strange, yellow flower.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If anyone wants me to explain more about the magic and monster family stuff, please go ahead and ask. I couldn't fit everything I wanted to talk about in this chapter, not without it going wildly off track and out of character. I think I already went out of character. The angst seems to have died down a bit. Only a few more chapters left, I think.  
> I hope.


End file.
